


The Galliard Titans

by catnipArsen



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manga Spoilers, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow To Update, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2018-12-07 13:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catnipArsen/pseuds/catnipArsen
Summary: On Hold for a smidge...I WILL get back to this.  My brain has too much other things in it right now.  This will come back soon thoughFour Titan shifters invade an unsuspecting human society with one goal in mind; to take back what belongs to them.In which Porco is chosen to be the Armored Titan instead of ReinerWarrior-centered*Not Beta-Read





	1. Before the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Hihi!
> 
> So I thought I'd try and play with the idea that Porco was supposed to be the Armored Titan from the beginning. So. I don't know what I'm doing with this. Please bear with me. aha. ha. ha.

This place smelled disgusting.

Correction; this place smelled fresh.  It smelled alive, and new and clean in comparison to Liberio.  The grass was far greener than in Liberio and the air was cooler.  The trees towered much taller, the treetops spreading farther and wider than any tree they’d seen in Marley at all.  The ocean here was a deep blue unlike the oil-fested oceans along the coast of Marley, and the sky was clear and blue.  It was apparent that this area was not a place humans frequented, and aside from the few remains of old docks built hundreds of years prior, there was no sign of human interference at all.  There were no planes, trains, cars, or zeppelins to drown out the nature.  It was silent.  Calm.

The sun gently warmed the faces of the children, observing the strange surroundings of their new home for the next couple of years.  Hopefully the towns here were as elegant as this open plain.  Perhaps that was wishful thinking.  These parts seemed calm for now but they had been told that Titans roamed the open areas.  Until they made it to one of the towns, they wouldn’t be safe.

The large ship they had been on pulled into shore, and soon the children were being packed up and pushed towards the emergency raft, the small compilation of wood, tar, and nails that would seal their fates.  Each time the raft was lowered another few feet, Bertholdt trembled more and more.  Annie peered over the edge and gazed at the water.  The reflection of the sun left little streaks in her vision temporarily.  Porco stared straight at the shore where he’d step on stable ground for the first time in nearly two weeks, and Marcel stared at the floor of the raft, his hand tightly gripping his brother’s.  

None of this felt real to them, at least not at first.  Despite how much they’re prepared and trained for the day they would come here, they still couldn’t fully process the situation, at least until they wandered on shore and the ship began to back out and head home.  Home to Marley.  The place they wouldn’t see for a long, long time.  Bertholdt stared after the ship as long as he was able to see it.   _Come back._  It wouldn’t come back.  They couldn’t leave until the job was done.  Five years; that was their time limit.  

Five years to find the Titans.  

Five years to find the Coordinate.  

Five years until this ship would return to shore.

Five years until they could go home.

He felt a tug on his arm.  “Come on.”  Marcel spoke softly and urged Bertholdt to begin walking.  They had to attempt to make some headway with the remaining sunlight they had left, which could last a couple hours at best.  It would take them a while to find the city they needed, and with the extra weight of their provisions hanging on their backs, the trek wouldn’t be easy.  They had to make the most of their first night, the night they would have most provisions available.  Walk as far as they can.  Walk throughout the night if they have to and only stop when absolutely necessary.  They would allot themselves time to sleep, two asleep for an hour and a half, the other two kept watch, and vice versa.  Wake up, then keep walking.

Night time was easy.  They could relax at night, they could afford to sit for a few extra minutes and rest, whereas daytime was more complicated.  They’d yet to see Pure Titans but they knew they were around.  Some were faster than others, but all were relentless and wouldn’t hesitate to gobble one of the children up as a snack.  They had to be strategic; fast but cautious.  If worse came to worse one could always transform and fight a Titan, but transforming wasted energy they needed to save for when they arrived.

Their third night of their second week on the island was standard, mostly.  They burned a fire to keep warm and roasted small portions of canned food over it.  Marcel was the one manning the fire and cooking the food, the tiny travel sized cast iron pot being their single cooking vessel unless they wanted to cook their food in the coffee pot.  “What do you think it’s like there?”  Bertholdt was the first to speak, and threw the others off with the impromptu question.

“What?  The towns?”  Annie responded.  Her eyes never left the pot that was sitting over the fire, but her attention was completely on Bertholdt.

“What do you think they’re like?”  Porco asked.  “That’s where the devil spawn live.  If anything it’s probably crawling with drunks and thieves, and I bet they pickpocket anyone they cross.  That’s the daytime situation I bet.  Night time is probably when the demons come out.  The murderers, drug addicts, whores.  It’ll probably smell if they’ve been confined behind walls like we’ve been told.”

Marcel grimaced as he pulled the food off the fire and rationed it out in the four small bowls packed with them.  He really didn’t want to think of alcoholics, murderers, and whores while he ate.  “It’s probably not that bad.”  He hoped.  “Honestly, they’re probably weak and frail, not having the balls to venture out into the unknown and face the world.  Crushing them and taking what’s ours will be easy.”

Porco pursed his lips as he gazed into the whatever-the-hell that was in the bowl passed to him.  It was incredible how organized the army was with sending four preteens out into the unknown wielding astronomical powers, pinpointing exactly where they needed to go and how long the mission should take but they couldn’t label the damn food cans.  What were they eating tonight?  Each time they opened a can it was a guessing game.  Last night they had accidentally opened a can of peaches.   _Peaches._  For dinner.  The night before it was some type of assorted meat packaged into a gross meat clump that kept the shape of the can when it slid out.  Tonight it was...was this chowder?  

“Still, I wouldn’t worry about it.”  Marcel continued.  “The people there won’t be worth a passing thought.”

Bertl exhaled as if it were his response, and spooned the unidentified food into his mouth.  It was incredibly bland but at least he was relieved.  At least it wasn’t as bad as those peaches.  He still couldn’t pry his mind from what the town was going to be like.  It could be as horrifying as Porco had thought, or maybe it would be underwhelming like Marcel’s thought.  Maybe it was neither.  Maybe the people here have survived through a method the Marleyans hadn’t thought of, and maybe killing them would be harder than killing Titans.  Titans, in their pure form, were only a threat if they caught you and killing Titans was easy.  They didn’t typically have consciousness at all.  Humans were different.  Humans, in a sense, were more dangerous than any Titan could be, and all they would have to do is speak.  Bertl shuttered.

Porco tossed his bowl aside and flopped down on the hard ground beneath him, ready to take the first hour of sleep.  Annie soon followed suit as she set her bowl aside and lay down too.  “I guess we’re taking first shift, huh?”  Marcel smiled.  “Seriously, Bert, it’ll be ok.  We’re the best, that’s why they chose us.  No matter what the people are like, we’ll complete our mission together.  We’ll become true Marleyans.”

Bertl smiled weakly.  At least Marcel was trying to make him feel better despite the nausea that was kicked up from the nerves.  Truth be told, it wasn’t the only thing that made Bertholdt nervous.  He was nervous about the fact that he’d have to become a Titan.  He’d have to break the walls.  He’d have to subject thousands of people the the terrors they fought so hard to hide from.  He was going to be the game changer.  Whether or not they would succeed in their mission to retake the Coordinate, whether or not they would live or die, it all starts with _him_.

That was a lot for a twelve-year-old to take in and thinking about it more right now didn’t help at all.  He thought about his training, he thought about his mission, and he thought about how it felt to control the Titan body.  It hurt.  It hurt a lot.  It was _so_ hot, and _so_ draining, and _so_ painful.  He thought about home, and about his mom and dad.  He thought about his friends.  He thought about Reiner.  He thought about boarding the ship four weeks ago and he thought about the ship as it sailed away without them.  Bertholdt was nervous, scared, _terrified_.  “Marcel, when you transform, does it hurt?”

“Yeah.  It does.  It’s like it constricts me.  It’s warm.  The only plus side is that when I’m a Titan, I feel...free?”

“Free?”

Marcel smiled.  “Yeah, and powerful.  Like nothing can hurt me.”  

“Thoughts like that can be dangerous.”  Bertholdt murmured.

“Heh, you’re right.  You better keep me in check.”  Marcel nudged the taller boy.

“Shut the hell up!”  Porco snapped, throwing his empty bowl at the boys.  “I’m trying to sleep!”

Marcel grinned.  “Hey, hey, calm down _Pokko._  You can take an extra half hour off my sleep schedule tonight, ok?”  Porco frowned at the use of that nickname, the one that was ever so graciously given to him by Pieck.  

“Forty-five minutes.  An extra fifteen as payment for using that name on me.”

“Aww, sorry, did I hurt Pokko’s feelings?”  Marcel teased.

“An hour!”

Bertholdt curled his knees to his chest.  Listening to the brothers bicker like this was comforting in a sense, as if no matter what they did or what they would do, at least they would keep those little bits inside them that made them human.

They were human.

Their victims were _human_.

The following morning began calm.  The sky was clear, and the dew had dusted the grass.  Birds chirped in the morning air.  It was refreshing; one of the best mornings the kids had while staying on Paradis.  Before Marcel and Bertl woke, Annie had begun preparing the coffee and Porco began cooking the mystery breakfast-in-a-can (it was more chowder).  “Smells like sadness.”  Annie joked.

“Tastes like sadness.”  Porco smirked in reply as he filled the bowls with the sadness chowder.  He handed one bowl to Annie, and after shaking the two sleeping boys awake, he handed one to each of them.  Marcel struggled with his breakfast, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes.  A half hour of sleep after running for a full day didn’t do a boy well at all.  Annie passed each boy a cup of coffee hoping it would get them pumped for the second-to-last morning of running.  Despite the heat, Bertholdt drank it quickly.  It didn’t bother him.  The coffee wouldn’t be as hot as…

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his focus.  “Hey.  How’re you feeling?”  Marcel asked.  Bertholdt smiled.  

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

Bertholdt nodded.  He did feel a little better after sleep, and the piping hot coffee helped too.  It took some attention away from his mind.  He wasn’t sure how Marcel knew something had been bothering him; he hadn’t mentioned anything to his recollection.  Marcel was just like that though.  He could always tell if something was up.  It must have been a big-brother trait passed down by Big-Brother Cherub Man from whatever the fuck that ancient religion was, the one that made people fall in love, except the Brotherly Love Cherub man.

As Annie poured the final cup of coffee, the ground shook beneath them.  There was a loud rumble, louder than any thunder they’d heard and the ground broke apart.  They scrambled to get away from the ever-growing cracks that they soon discovered to be a Titan emerging from the ground.  “R-run…”  Marcel’s voice came out as barely a whisper, but that’s all that needed to happen before the four turned and sprinted.  

Bertl wasn’t sure how fast he was running.  He wasn’t sure if his legs were still there; he couldn’t feel them but he was still moving forward.  That must mean his legs were there.  How far was the Titan?  He couldn’t look.  Porco could.  He looked.  It was fast.  This Titan… “Damnit.”  He muttered and heel-turned towards the TItan.  Marcel screamed after him, but Porco didn’t care.  He was distracted.  Without hesitation he sank his teeth into his hand.  

He in his Titan form couldn’t kill the Titan but he was able to disable it for a while by tearing off its leg.  Sure Titans could heal, but this one would have to be pretty special to heal fast enough to catch up to them.  Porco scooped the others up in his hands and sprinted as far as he could away from the scene.  He prayed to any god that might exist that they wouldn’t encounter any more, especially not right now.

As the gang rested among the trunks of the large trees, they all trembled hard.  Porco was on all fours breathing heavy and completely exhausted.  He was the most shaken out of all of them.  “Thank you.”  Annie hummed and sat next to him.  “We owe you.”

Porco laughed between huffs.  “W-we left half our rations back there.  Heh, s-shit.”

“We’re almost there.”  Marcel patted his brother’s back, cringing a bit at the fact his shirt was drenched with sweat.  

“Yeah.”

 

╠╬╣

 

The wall was so much bigger than they had thought.  They were _told_ how tall it was but actually seeing it up close was a completely different story.  The three boys gaped at the sight.  It was definitely overwhelming, but it wasn’t anything that they, _he_ , couldn’t manage, and Porco nudged Bertholdt closer to the wall.  “Ok so Annie’s on her way.  She’s leading that pack of Titans we passed over here.  The wall has to be open by the time she gets here.”  He reiterated.   _I know._  Bertholdt thought.  They had just gone over the plan this morning.  Annie would lead a horde of Titans to the wall.  Bertholdt would break the exterior wall and Porco would destroy any other barriers that may impede them.  Marcel would hang back, as there’d be no use for the Jaw Titan this early on, unless the situation became dire.  Porco handed Bertl a small paring knife they’d brought with them and pushed him closer to the wall.  “Come on.”

Bertholdt scanned the wall one more time and inhaled.  This was it.  If the wall was as sturdy as they said, the only point he could break would be the gates that were positioned a little south of their current position.  He could see the gate.  Bertholdt pressed the knife against the palm of -his hand.  He inhaled again.  This was it.  He had to break the wall and allow countless man-eaters into this unsuspecting town.  This was it.  He had to transform and break in.  He had to do it.  He can do it. _I can do it.  I can do it...I can...do it...I...I…_

The knife was still pressed to the skin, but despite penetrating a couple layers, it didn’t draw blood and he didn’t transform.  It shook in Bertholdt’s hand.  No, Bertholdt was the one who was shaking.  His eyes were wide as he stared at the wall.  He could imagine the people screaming and bleeding and dying.  They were dying.  They would all die, _die_ , thanks to him.  Women, children, babies...dying.  He felt sick.

“What are you waiting for?”  Marcel asked.  “Do it.”

Bertholdt pressed harder, hoping that maybe he could accidentally draw blood.  That’s all he needed.  He’d done this plenty of times before, why wasn’t he able to break the skin?  It was the screaming.  He could still hear the screaming.  It hadn’t happened yet but it’s all that could play in his mind.  “Hey!”  Porco called.  “What are you doing?”

Bertl turned to them.  “I-I can’t do it.”

“What?”

“I can’t...I can’t do it!”

Marcel opened his mouth to speak, but Porco persisted.  “You _can’t_ do it?”

Bertl swallowed hard, hoping that he could find justification for not being able to carry out his duties as the Colossal Titan.  “I’m scared.”  It’s true.  He was terrified.  He didn’t want to transform.  It hurt.  He didn’t want to break the wall.  He’d be a murderer.  He couldn’t enter the town.  He’d be a liar.  

“It’s ok, Bert!”  Marcel gave him a nervous smile.  “We’re all scared.  But it’ll be ok.  If you just do it that’s all you’ll have to do for a while.  The dirty work can be on us.”

“Come on, Hoover, just do it!”

“I cant!  I can’t do it!”  He backed away from the wall and tossed the knife to the ground.  “I can’t do it!”  Bertl’s breathing became labored as he thought of it all again; the screaming, the pain, the death.  So much death.  What they had experienced yesterday morning was what the devils in the interior would experience today, and it was going to be because of him.  Bertholdt’s heart pounded and he broke out into a sweat.  “No! I can’t!  No, no!”

Marcel grabbed Bertholdt’s shoulder.  “Come on, man.  Annie’s almost here!”  He gestured to the far away silhouette of Annie’s Titan form and the silhouette of the Titan horde behind her.  “Come on, Bert!  You got this!”

Bertholdt recoiled from his touch and his eyes pricked with tears..  “No!  No, I can’t!”

“ _Can’t_ or _won’t?_ ”  Porco growled.

“I can’t, I’m scared!”  His heart beat faster, and his stomach turned.  His eyes poured tears and _his stomach turned._  “I’m scared, I’m scared!”  He sobbed.  

Porco glowered.  “Just do it!  Do it, before she gets here!”  Bertholdt shook his head violently, images of bodies and the sounds of screaming still in his head.  The images, the sounds, the stress was far too much and before he could catch himself Bertl found himself vomiting the nervousness mid-sob.

“For fuck’s sake!”

Bertholdt kept sobbing.  “No!  No!  No, I can’t!  I can’t do it!  Please don’t make me!”

“Bertholdt!”  Marcel shouted.  The horde was getting closer and the wall still wasn’t broken.  If they stayed here they’d be eaten.  If they broke the wall at least they had a chance.  

“Come the hell on, Hoover!”  Porco yelled as he picked up the knife and shoved it to Bertl.  “You have one job!  As a warrior, pledge your loyalty to the country that took one look at you and thought you might be worth a damn!”

Marcel himself was panicking at this point as the horde was close enough that they could see the details on their faces.  “Hurry!”

“If you don’t fucking do this we’re all going to die here!”

Bertholdt gulped, his vision still blurry.  No, he couldn’t die here.  He couldn’t let them die here.   _That’s right.  It’s us or them._ He took a deep shaky breath.   _I want to go home._  Bertholdt slid the knife across his hand, and his body engulfed in that painful heat.


	2. The Fall of Maria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit- I feel like it's worth noting that this chapter was partially inspired by Mishafer's work found here. It wasn't supposed to be _QUITE_ as similar, so for that I do apologize.
> 
> BUT I recommend checking out that work, and others they've done as well! They're a fantastic writer who's done a lot of my favorite works!

The interior did indeed smell disgusting, and the mass piles of bodies littering the streets did nothing to remedy that.  In fact, it seemed to add to it.  The aftermath of the chaos was more surreal than the chaos itself.  The ground clicked beneath their shoes.  Shiganshina was silent this morning, save for few and far between distant screams from the townsfolk that remained.  Most townsfolk that stayed did so for only a few reasons--one, because they were denied access to the ferries; two, because they were physically unable to make their exodus; and three, to find their loved ones from whom they were separated.  Every so often a member of the Garrison zipped overhead at the sight of a flare.

The four young shifters said nothing.  They hadn’t spoken since the incident they created yesterday.  There were no words, none that they could form.  Marcel found himself stepping over puddles of blood and, on occasion, dismembered body parts.  He’d yet to step over an intact body.  There were hardly any, and if there was one usually it wasn’t a Titan’s doing; they’d been trampled.

Bertholdt did his best to not look at the bodies they passed.  He couldn’t bear to look at the damage he caused.  This morning when he was surveying his work, he stumbled upon an elderly man crushed beneath some rubble.  He had crouched and leaned in close to examine further--possibly to sate his own morbid curiosity at what a real corpse looks like up close.  It wouldn’t have been so hard for Bertholdt to stomach if the man’s eyes hadn’t moved and made contact with his.  He could still remember the gurgling sound the old man made as Bertl recoiled from him, letting out a startled and horrified yell as he promptly backed away.  What if the man was trying to ask him for help?

Nothing could have helped him at that point.  Leaving him was a kindness.

Annie did her best to ignore the ruins around her also.  She blinked away any tears that may have formed in her eyes as she told herself that it was fine, that they were just devils.  Less than vermin.  Bertholdt couldn’t shoulder the entire responsibility.  She’s led the Titans here.  Bertholdt destroyed the Outer Gate.  Porco had destroyed the Inner Gate.  They were all murderers.  Marcel was still the only one who hadn’t gotten his hands dirty.  It wouldn’t last long though, she predicted.  Eventually none of them would be clean.

It wasn’t until Bertholdt made the mistake of glancing downward did he truly begin to feel sick again.  It was the body of a young man, maybe mid twenties, holding the bodies of what appeared to be an infant girl; father and daughter?  What had happened to them?  They were still intact.  Their death wasn’t a Titan’s doing.  Perhaps they had gotten denied access to the ferry and so to keep his daughter from suffering at the hands or jaws of a Titan, he had to…

Porco gently tugged at Bertl’s arm, not in a ‘hurry up’ way but more in a ‘we’ll make it through this’ way.  “Hey.”  He spoke softly; too softly.  “We have to keep moving.”  Bertholdt managed to peel his eyes away from the sight and pressed onward, swallowing the ever growing lump in his throat.  They had to get to the next ferry before it left.  They were great at transporting large amounts of people but they were slow and they had to cross hundreds of miles carrying hundreds of people.  One would take nearly a day to get back, that’s what the word on the streets said.  The word on the streets--the information screamed at them by passersby who were denied access by those ‘fucking useless Garrison assholes’ and were told to ‘come back in twelve hours, if you can.’

Marcel was a couple steps ahead of the crew.  He stood on his tiptoes every once in awhile as if that it might magically make the ferry visible to him.  It did not.  He really wasn’t sure how much further they needed to go.  Porco mentioned that it was in the East side of the district.  ‘Yeah I saw it when I barreled through the last gate.  It’ll take a while to travel on our own but that’s the safest way to travel inward.’   _Sure, Porco, sure._  “If I transform, we can probably get there faster.”  He murmured to himself.  Of course, though, he wouldn’t risk blowing their cover.  If someone on a horse and cart picked them up...unlikely.  Most livestock that would have been here were probably spooked and ran off in all the commotion.  He inhaled a deep breath of the disgusting air and sighed it out loudly.  

Then he heard something.  It was faint, but it was definitely there.  Voices.  Voices of humans gathered in one area.  He smelled something.  Water?  Water.  They were close.  “Come on!”  Marcel shouted and sprinted towards the noise.  The others followed suit.

He was right, it was the river.  There were copious amounts of people surrounding the docks, begging to be let on, begging for their children to be let on.  The boats were already packed.  The Garrison insisted on trying to stuff more people on, preferably small people, like children.  Like four sweet innocent orphaned children.  Three boys and a girl whom they had no idea had ulterior motives.   _Letting us on this ferry was a big mistake, and you have no idea._

The second inner wall city, which they had discovered was called the Trost District located in Wall Rose, smelled even worse than Maria’s Shiganshina District.  There were so many people here that had traveled from Shiganshina that not only trying to navigate was difficult, there was no place to sleep.  Homes were filled to the brim with refugees.  Many of the homeowners volunteered to share their homes with them, but others weren’t given a choice.  Annie, Bertl, Marcel, and Porco were lucky when a small elderly woman came up to them and volunteered to share her home with the ‘bunch of kind, mild-tempered children.’  The wording threw Marcel off because Porco was anything but mild-mannered but whatever she chose to believe…

Old Lady Prunella--or as she would say, ‘Just call me Ms Prunella…’--was a kind woman in her mid seventies.  Her home was small but she had the best intentions.  There was hardly enough food for her plus four extra mouths, but it was supplemented by the rations that they managed to run off with after the Titan attack.  “My word, what is this?”  She asked when she popped open one of the cans.  

“Don’t really know.” Annie replied, sitting around the small kitchen table with the others.  “It could be meat.  I think.”

“Well beggars can’t be choosers, right?”  She smiled and emptied the meat lump into the pot over the fire.  

Marcel stood and hurried over to help Ms Prunella.  “Here, Miss, I can get this.  Go sit and relax.  You’ve done enough to help us.”

Prunella was stunned for a moment before she smiled again and handed the pot over to Marcel.  “Thank you, young man.  Bless your soul.”  She hobbled over to the table and took a seat between Annie and Porco.  “I’ve spent the last twenty years doing the housework and cooking for my dear Arnold.  I’m quite used to being busy so I don’t mind cooking for you, too.”

Bertholdt, who sat across from Prunella, leaned in ever so slightly.  “Your husband?”

“Oh yes.  Believe it or not, in my youth I was quite the fox.”  She winked, a sly little grin spreading across her face.  “And so was he.  I remember when we first met.  I think I was...twenty two maybe.  He had just traveled here from Shiganshina, like you, to start a new life in a new place.  I was tending the fields of crops when he stumbled on in with his Shiganshina accent and mannerisms.  ‘Hi there, Miss, sorry to bother you but I’ve never seen someone so beautiful in my life, would you please marry me?’  He was so sweet but of course I declined.”

“You couldn’t marry someone you just met, right?”

Prunella laughed.  “Oh no it’s not that! I didn’t want him to think that I was beautiful when I was grimy and covered in dirt.  He’d have to wait until I washed and prettied myself up.  We were happy though, for fifty years we were married and happy.  Twenty two years ago he made the decision that he wanted to strive to live in the Inner Wall, where we could live a better life.  The only way to do that was to join the military.”

Marcel peered over, continuing to cook the whatever-it-was on the fire.  

“I was so proud of him.  He was lucky, he never saw a Titan.  But it damaged him other ways.  They had begun developing this _vertical maneuver gear_ around the time he joined. If you’ve seen the Garrison flying overhead in Shiganshina, that’s what they were developing.  Unfortunately, he...the equipment he used was still being tested and improved.  So it wasn’t safe in the least and he ended up falling from a great height.  He was paralyzed from the waist down and was compensated with nothing more than an honorable discharge.”

“I’m so sorry.”  Porco murmured, his voice teeming with fake sympathy.

Prunella’s expression fell. “It wasn’t a good time, but we managed.  I took care of him for the next twenty years before he passed on.  It wasn’t the most ideal life but I wouldn’t change it for the world.  It was better that way, I think.  He left this world before the Titan attack.”

Marcel served the food on the few small plates Ms Prunella had.  “It must have been terrifying to hear of the break-in, though.”  He said as he set the plates on the table.  

“Ah, but I’m rambling.  Please, please, tell me about yourselves.”

Bertholdt said nothing, and instead started to dig into the food in front of him.  Porco was the one who spoke first.  “We’re from Shiganshina, as you know.  Marcel and I lived there with our parents.  We were on the far East side, across the river, so when the Colossal Titan attacked, we weren’t directly in the line of fire but we could see him peer his head over the top of the wall.”

Prunella gaped.  “So it was _that_ big.  That must have been a horrifying sight.”

“Yeah.  We were able to make our way to the ferries to escape.  We were so close to the docks, but it was already crowded when we got there.  Marcel and I were able to board, but our parents…”  Porco averted his gaze.  Was he starting to cry?  “They couldn’t…”

Marcel chimed in.  “The Garrison wouldn’t let them on the boats.  Not enough room.”

“No, I’m so sorry, honey.”  She cooed and wrapped Porco in a big hug and let him cry on her shoulder.  “Don’t give up hope, though.  Maybe they made the next boat and are searching for you.”  

As he shoved food into his face, Marcel eyed Porco as he continued his dramatic acting, half-worried that maybe be was going a little overboard.  Annie and Bertholdt hadn’t said anything, and hopefully they wouldn’t have to at this rate.  Bertholdt was able to forge his own backstory as a boy who lived in the outskirts on a farm who only discovered the Titan breach after they arrived; but Annie was having trouble.  Maybe they’d be able to coach her in private to create a believable story.  Honestly, though, Ms Prunella was so kind, it made Marcel wonder if most people here were like this or if she was part of the one percent along with the others who voluntarily opened their homes to refugees.

The sleeping arrangements were very nice.  She had a guest bedroom with a decent sized bed that could easily fit four people if they slept parallel to the headboard.  Annie’s sleeping arrangements were a bit old fashioned as Ms Prunella insisted Annie sleep in her room because ‘you should never sleep in the same bed as a boy if you’re not married.’  It was incredibly archaic, if you asked them.  In times of war, you do what you do, no matter your gender.  If you need to shove seven people in one bed just to make ends meet, then you do it.  Still, it was a kind gesture and a sign that Prunella still had hope for the future.

Bertholdt was closest to the foot of the bed, Marcel in the middle, and Porco near the headboard.  Bertl tossed and turned.  He was having difficulty pushing the images of blood, dismembered body parts, organs, full-on _corpses_ from his mind.  He kept thinking about the old man beneath the rubble gurgling at him.  He kept thinking about the father holding his baby girl.  He kept thinking about how truly disgusted he was when he thought he stepped on debris and looked down to realize it was an arm.  

Soon he was able to drift to sleep despite not wanting to close his eyes.  The visions still plagued him but he was so damn tired.  They hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours.  They didn’t have time with the breaking the wall and having to trek all the way through Shiganshina to get to the ferries.  There was no room to sleep on the ferries despite the long amount of time they spent on it, and until they found Prunella--or Prunella found them--they were walking and running and shoving through crowds.  They hadn’t slept on a real bed in over a month and it was so very missed that Porco and Marcel were out in minutes.

Bertholdt was dreaming.  He knew he was, he always knew.  It was a fun skill he could play with when normal life got boring.  ‘What if I could fly?  What if I was taller?  Shorter?  What if Eldia and Marley could live in peace?  What if…?’  It was different this time though.  Bertholdt walked alone among his memories of today, clear as crystal as if it had just happened moments ago.  He walked past piles of rubble, broken and destroyed homes, sometimes more than once as if on a loop.  He walked past the victim he recalled most; the old man.  No matter where he looked, how the victim died, it was always the face of the old man gazing into his soul making that god awful noise.  Bertl tried to make the sight go away.   _Come on, please change...change into something else.  Please?_

It didn’t work.  He couldn’t control this one, which made him feel helpless.  Bertholdt knelt down beside one of the old men, the one that was stuck beneath the pile of debris like he had in real life.  He didn’t move, which made Bertholdt breathe a sigh of relief.  Maybe this one was dead and at peace.  As Bertholdt shifted to stand up again, the man reached out his hands and gripped at Bertl’s throat.  The eyes that gazed at him pierced through his soul, and it _hurt.  So.  Bad._

He screamed and fought against the hands that were relentless.  They were immovable, and so Bertholdt was trapped, fighting and clawing at the man.   _Let go!  Please!  I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!_

He kept screaming and pushing and fighting, even as Marcel shook him awake, Bertholdt screamed and pushed Marcel away, finally rolling off the foot of the bed with a loud thunk on the floor.  “Hey!”  Marcel exclaimed.  “Are you ok?”  Bertholdt was definitely awake now, rolled into a ball on the floor as he buried his face in his hands.  No, he was _not_ ok.  He sobbed and sobbed, and continued to do so even when Annie and Prunella burst through the door.  

“Bertholdt!”  Who was calling him?  He didn’t know.  He didn’t care.  “Bertholdt, it’s ok.  It’s alright, you’re ok!”  Maybe it was Porco?

“It’s fine!  You’re safe now!”  Prunella.

“Just try to relax!  Breathe, Bert, breathe.”  That name, ‘Bert’...That must have been Marcel.  He was the only one who called him Bert.  

Was Annie speaking?  Probably not, she wasn’t the most vocal type.  

The sobbing subsided _eventually_ , with Marcel on one side of Bertl and Prunella on the other.  Annie and Porco were sitting cross-legged on the bed.  Bertl’s knees were pulled to his chest and his face was buried in his arms.  Prunella rubbed his back, trying her very best to console the visibly traumatized child.  Marcel kept a hand on his shoulder, telling him things like, “It’s ok now Bert.  It’ll be over soon.”

“I’m scared.”  Bertholdt murmured.  It sounded as if he was still crying.  “I want to go home.  I want my mom.”

“Soon.”  Marcel repeated.

“Bertholdt.”  Annie spoke up finally after all this time.  Bertl peeked an eye over at her.  “Your mom would be proud.  Look how far you’ve made it.  When you see her again, you can tell her all the amazing things you’ve done on your own and all the things you’ve done for her.  Make it through this and you can see her again.”

Something about what she said seemed to alleviate a lot of Bertholdt’s anxieties.  What she said was true, he could go home and tell her how much he had done for Marley.  Bertholdt’s actions were justified.   _Justified._  He could tell her that they could be free because of what he’s done.  She could be a true Marleyan citizen and not have to live with an armband marking her as ‘vermin’ anymore. She could be free... _free_.

 

╠╬╣

 

The next morning was a lot easier to manage.  Bertholdt felt so much better, despite the guilt he felt for that poor old... _no.  No, don’t think about that._  It was a new day.  A new year.  A new life.  

Marcel and Porco headed out to the market per Prunella’s request to pick up various foods and vegetables for tonight’s dinner.  The mystery meat was...fine, but they deserved better.  “Your acting last night was a little overboard.”  Marcel hummed, referring to the dinner scene he’d pulled.

“And Bertholdt’s wasn’t?”  He snipped.

“I don’t think he was acting.”

“Well then he’s a pussy.  What kind of warrior cries for his mommy?”

Marcel scowled and lightly punched him in the arm.  “I recall you did that during training once.”

“I was seven.  Bertholdt’s what, thirteen almost?”  The blond perused what was left of the produce selection, every so often placing something edible in the basket and handing money to the ones manning the stands.  Since so many people migrated here, it was apparent that food was going to be an issue; they couldn’t stay here long.  “I remember when you told mom and dad about it.  Mom thought it was cute.  Dad hit me.  ‘What the fuck are you crying for, you little shit?  I’ll give you something to cry about!’   _Whap_ .  ‘What are you gonna do?  Run to your _mommy?_ ’   _Whap_.”

Marcel stared at his brother who was still eyeing the foods.  A knot tightened in his chest as he realized that it was his fault.  “I didn’t know that.  I’m sorry.”

He whipped around to meet Marcel’s gaze, staring intensely.  “Don’t be!  It made me the man I am today.  How could I have been _chosen_ if I cried every time I got scared?”  

Marcel was quiet for a while after that.  He didn’t think that Porco would have been _grateful_ to have been struck by his father and he wished that Porco had told him sooner, not that Marcel could have done anything about it.  Still, maybe it is what shaped Porco to be one of the top warriors in Marley?  The trip could have ended much differently if Porco wasn’t chosen.  He was quick to think on his feet, rational, strong as hell, and even though he was a bit rough around the edges he really was a great person.  He didn’t let emotions get too in the way, not that any of them really had, aside from Bertl two days ago when he had to transform.  Honestly aside from Marcel, Porco was the most well put together with his head screwed on right and a goal in mind.

“Hey.”  He said, breaking Marcel out of thought.  “Remember what Ms Prunella said last night about the military?”

“I do.  I think we should join.  If there’s a chance we can get to the interior, that’s probably where we’re going to find our target.”  Marcel replied under his breath.  “Close to the capitol, close to the king.”

“I agree.  We can discuss with Annie and Bertholdt when we get back.”

Annie and Bertholdt agreed, discussing the plan over peeling the tiny-ass potatoes they managed to bring home.  They had to mumble under their breaths and hope Ms Prunella didn’t hear them.  They wouldn’t mention vocabulary that might tip her off to the fact they were the enemy, but they still didn’t want her words of ‘wisdom’ trying to coax them out of the plan.

They would forge their documents, enlist for the military, and get as close to the interior as they could.  There, they could learn how much the humans knew about Titans, how they killed Titans, and how exactly their military operated; knowing how the military would react in situations would make it easier for them to work around that.  They would gain access to classified information that could help locate the Coordinate, and no one would be any wiser.

Over dinner, Ms Prunella was more quiet than normal and she barely ate anything on her plate.  “Ms Prunella, are you ok?”  Annie asked.

She smiled.  “Oh...oh yes.  Just not too hungry, you know?”  

Porco stared at her plate. _Ungrateful hag.  Finding that much food was difficult, so fucking eat it._ “It’s fine.  You can save it for later right?”

“Yes of course!”  She nodded, and peered down at the floor for a moment before engaging the group..  “You know...you can’t join the military until you’re at least twelve.”  The preteens stiffened.  “You don’t have to lie to me.  I might be old, but I still have powerful hearing.”  She chuckled and continued.  “Porco’s still only eleven right?  He’ll have to wait a year at least.  Maybe more.  You can stay here until then, alright?”

Marcel focus all his attention on Ms Prunella.  No, all his attention on the victim.  Little did she know she was feeding and housing the very people who may cause her death.  These devil spawn...they were stupid, overly trusting and content with throwing caution to the wind when it came to strangers.  He felt like he was right, crushing these people and taking what was theirs would be easy.

There was no way they could stay here for a year.  Instead, the four packed their things, all their rations, and left in the night after Prunella fell asleep.  Bertholdt half-thought about writing her a note thanking her for her hospitality, but they had to hurry and he didn’t have time.  The four walked silently, the path ahead of them lit only by the half moon that lingered in the dark, starry sky and the only noise they heard were the clicking of their shoes on the cobblestone roads.


	3. Cadets: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, if you notice any grammatical errors or whathaveyou pls let me know <3 I dont have anyone beta read these before posting. ♥♥

The first month out of Prunella’s home wasn’t too hard to manage.  Combining the fact that they were children without parents to their fictional origin stories--a favorite they liked to use was that Annie had belonged to a military family from Shiganshina whose parents were killed fighting the Titans so that Annie could escape...people had a soft spot for the orphaned military daughter--they were able to get pretty decent treatment.  They were able to get whole rooms to themselves, warm meals, baths, and some generous homeowners would even give them hand-me-down clothing so they could change.  The only payment?  Basic house chores and shopping for the hosts.  Occasionally they’d cook for the hosts and watch their children for a few hours, if applicable.  Honestly, that was something that Bertholdt found he actually enjoyed doing, despite the knowledge he might not live long enough to start a family of his own.

Their favorite hosts aside from Prunella, was a kind couple, Margot and Ann, and their two sons, Leo and Andrew.  Margot and Ann were kind, soft spoken women in their mid thirties.  Leo and Andrew were both four.  Margot was a seamstress who volunteered to fix any wear that came to the preteens’ clothing.  There had been a noticeable seam rip on Bertholdt’s left jacket sleeve and a hole in Porco’s bag.  He had gotten through with sticking various papers to cover the hole but it truly was a miracle.

Ann on the other hand was a _fantastic_ baker.  The first night of their two-week long stay here, she didn’t hesitate to bake them each personal-sized sweet rolls.  Her secret?  Adding a little bit of cinnamon powder to sugar and dusting the top of the dough before putting it in the oven.  She was also the master of all jokes--kiddie jokes, family friendly jokes, _adult_ jokes.  There was no shame, even Bertholdt who generally tried to avoid adult topics was able to laugh at whatever she would say.  The mothers were even incredibly supportive when they had mentioned joining the military.  “You have to follow your instincts if you have a cause worth fighting for.”  Margot said.

Leo and Andrew quickly took to Bertholdt as their new playmate.  Bertl didn’t mind.  He enjoyed getting to play around like a kid.  He even grew to accept the way the toddlers pronounced his name, ‘Beeto.’

For the past couple hours while the mothers, Annie, Porco and Marcel cleaned the house, Bertholdt had been outside playing various games with Leo and Andrew.  Occasionally they’d stop to dig in the dirt and gawk at weird looking bugs.  Annie watched the end of their play session, happy that Bertholdt had found a niche for himself; something that he could do.  He wasn’t a cook, he couldn’t sew, and he had no real will of his own so he had a difficult time making hard decisions.  But this...this was just so natural for him.  He was happy.  The smile, that big toothy grin he wore all day was genuine.  Leo tossed a small rubber ball at Bertl, screaming something along the lines of “Stop the robber!”  The ball bounced off Bertl’s chest and he flailed around a bit and fake screamed, ‘No, you got me!  I’m defeated!’  before falling to the ground and ‘dying’ while the boys cheered and climbed on him. She couldn’t help but smile while she watched him play.  Marcel glanced over at her from the corner of his eye as she stared out the window at them.

“Alright, boys.  Time for washing and bed.”  Ann called from the front door.  “Say goodnight to Beeto.”

“Good night!”

“G’night Beeto!”  The two gave him very generous hugs before running back inside.  ‘Beeto’ came in shortly after covered in dirt and dust looking completely wiped out.  He barely had enough energy to walk to the kitchen, grab a cup, find where the water pump was, fill it, drink it, put the cup back, and flop on the floor.  Such an arduous process to rehydrate.

Marcel laughed.  “Heh. wow, Beeto, you look like you could use a nap.”

Bertl fake laughed, but Marcel was right.  He was so damn tired.  Transforming was by far the most exhausting thing he’d ever done but playing with the kids was a close second.  He swore he could fall asleep face down on the floor like this and that’d be ok.  Bertholdt soon felt a foot lightly poke at his side.  

“Are you dead?”  Porco asked.  “Hey Marcel, if he’s dead can I have his rations?”

Marcel scoffed.  “Excuse me?  As Alpha Male of this Quad, I think I get first dibs.”

“Oh just because you’re leading the team that means you get all the extra rations?  It should go to the strongest.”

“I guess it’s going to Annie then.”

Porco paused a moment.  Oh, right.  She could lay all three boys out without breaking a sweat.

Margot shut the boys’ door after putting them to bed; Ann was still in the room reading them a story.  She walked into the main room where the preteens were and noticed the lump of Bertl on the floor.  “Well I guess it was an exciting day, huh, Bert?”

“Not as exciting as yesterday.”  Bertholdt muttered.  Still, he wasn’t upset about it.  He enjoyed it, but that didn’t make it less exhausting.

“Ok but you can’t sleep on the floor.  Up, up.  Go get washed and ready for bed.”  

The mothers had a fantastic guest bedroom setup.  They had two small beds that would normally only hold one person, but as the warriors were still fairly small they were able to fit two per bed; Annie and Bertholdt in one, and Marcel and Porco in the other.  There was also an amazing view of the river from the room window.  Every so often the water would catch the moonlight just right and reflect it into the room.  Bertholdt appreciated it.  The lights danced along the walls and ceiling, and every so often, it danced along Annie as she slept on her side, facing him.  The light looked so beautiful on her skin, he thought.  It wasn’t intense enough to wake her...the light, that is...but it was enough to illuminate her face.  Her beautiful, peacefully sleeping face.  Alright, it was time to try and drift off to sleep.  Bertholdt managed to close his eyes and get into a comfortable position. _Ok, me.  Sleep.  You should be tired enough.  Just sleep._

The air coming through the window was cool and he was able to hear the river at times if a strong enough breeze passed by.  “Hey Bertholdt.”  He hears a quiet voice in his ear.  He turned to see Annie looking at him.  “It’s really nice what you’re doing with those kids.  They’re having a lot of fun.”

Bertl smirked.  “Y-yeah, I guess.”

“You like it too.  I can tell, you’re a lot happier when you’re around kids.”

“It reminds me of us back home.”

She nodded.  “It does.”  Silence between the two lasted for a while.  Sometimes they didn’t have to talk.  Just being around each other and in each other’s company was enough for the warriors.  Not everything needed words or commentary.  “Still,”  Annie pressed after a while, “I think you’re happy.  It’s nice to see.  I like it.”

“Y-you do?”  He asked, searching her face for any sign of deception.  

“I do.  It’s cute. _You’re_ cute.”  She smiled.  Bertholdt tensed.   _W-what?_  His heart beat in his chest.  What was she doing?  Was this a joke…?  

“I-I’m cute?”  He stuttered.  Annie nodded again.  “Thank you?  You’re, uh, you’re cute too.”  He began to tremble, his heart beat so fast.  He broke out in a sweat and he had no idea what to do.  Annie did, though.  She leaned in to give him a little peck on the cheek.  Why just the cheek?  The mouth too.  She kissed his mouth too.   Bertholdt blushed so much, he thought he might burn her with all that extra heat.  Yeah, he liked this.  He kissed her too, but only softly.  They weren’t going to kiss like some of the adults they’d seen while walking about; gross.  Little pecks were good though.  They were very _very_ good.  Bertholdt couldn’t help it.  He took her hand in his and just held it.  Her skin was really soft, he noticed.  She smelled nice.  She smelled very nice.  Soon, her hand found his waist and she pulled him closer to her.

His eyes opened and he was face to face with the white-painted wall.  Annie wasn’t holding him.  She wasn’t kissing him.  She was, however, breathing and each breath she exhaled tickled the back of Bertl’s neck and sent chills down his spine.

 _What the hell?  Was I dreaming?_  He peered over his shoulder at Annie who was, indeed, still asleep.  His face felt hot .  He hadn’t even realized he was dreaming which concerned him because, for one, he was a very lucid dreamer.  He also didn’t know how much he liked Annie.  Dreams weren’t always one hundred percent accurate and in tune with what a person might actually agree or not agree with, but it was something.  Her breaths kept hitting his skin and it was driving him crazy.   _No.  No, just ignore it.  It was just a dream...please it was just a dream…_  Of course, he had no choice but to ignore it, even as he scooted as far as he could from her.  He stared at the ceiling for most of the night, far too afraid to sleep again.

Dawn barely broke on their last day at Margot and Ann’s as they began to pack their things.  They preferred to leave in the middle of the night so the goodbye’s wouldn’t hinder them.  They couldn’t do it this round, ‘for reasons,’ Bertholdt had said.  He had to at least say goodbye to Leo and Andrew, much to Porco’s very obvious dismay.  Marcel had allowed it, and so they would stay until the boys woke up and they said their goodbye’s.  Leo had claimed that when he grew up, he’d join the military and be a brave soldier like Beeto!  It was a statement that really hit Bertholdt; noble aspirations but with the Titan’s plans, there was a chance these kids wouldn’t make it…

 

╠╬╣

 

The remaining year and a half leading up to their enlisting was difficult.  They found themselves sleeping mostly in alleyways, under awnings, in barns with the horses and other livestock.  When the people of Shiganshina first arrived here, people were incredibly accommodating and helpful, taking people in without a second thought.  They broke bread and shared resources and were incredibly hospitable.  That only lasted a couple of months.  Whereas Prunella, and Margo and Ann took the children in immediately, others with larger homes refused to even let them rest for a few hours.  Eventually the food shortage caused not only the refugees to act in discord, but the natives to Trost began acting that way as well.  The refugees started stealing food, livestock, carts from the Trost folk and so they began retaliating.  Civil war was imminent which did nothing to settle the nerves of the infiltrators.  

Even Annie would have to admit that they should have stayed with Ms Prunella or Margot and Ann a little bit longer than a couple days.  Since the social stress level was increasing exorbitantly, trust between people was plummeting especially in the center of the city where population was highest.  Mothers wouldn’t let their children out to play, fathers wouldn’t let their daughters roam at night, and for good reason.  While she didn’t want to talk about it, Annie had had a not-so-great encounter with a middle aged drunk man one night.  The warriors had knocked on a man’s door to seek shelter in his shed he had attached to the side of his home for a few hours while they rested and ate some food without fear of others trying to swoop in and grab it.  The man’s vibe alone should have tipped the group off--they were all uneasy about this man and his ‘wandering eyes’--but they were also incredibly desperate.  “Yeah go ahead n’ sleep n’ there.  It’s real toasty n’ no one’ll see anythin’ goin’ on in there…”

Annie’s father had trained her well.  He knew she’d be traveling to an unknown place with unknown people and so he made sure to train her very _very_ well, so after a while when the man barged into the shed spitting out slurred words, ‘nothin’ in life’s free, darlin’.  Y’gotta pay somehow n’ I’m lookin’ for somethin’ a little _sweeter_ than money...’  She was quick to take him down on her own but Marcel had to pry Porco off him.  They couldn’t afford to risk a civilian death when they were lying low (though he would have happily let him destroy this worthless piece of shit if it were another time).

Again, Annie refused to talk about it further when Marcel and Bertl kept asking her if she was alright and if she needed anything.  No matter how much she washed, she could swear that the scent of booze and tobacco still lingered on her jacket where he’d grabbed her.  “I’m fine.  Drop it.”

“You should have let me slit his throat.”  Porco growled, still angry that Marcel had stopped him.  He could have done it too and all he had to do was to reach the lid of the can they’d opened moments before.  Ms Prunella’s home was a paradise in comparison to the rest of this god forsaken town.

The only solace they had was that Porco discovered they were able to trade some of their rations for a place to sleep for a night or two with some more reputable citizens.  That wouldn’t last long, as they only had a limited supply left and were forced to take government handouts which was nothing more than stale bread.  When the government had announced that they would lead a volunteer group of soldiers (citizens who volunteered and returned would be heavily compensated) to take back Wall Maria, thousands joined.  Hundreds came back.  Bodies weren’t recovered; too dangerous.  “Disgusting.”  Marcel growled.  “How could a government send thousands of untrained people to their deaths?  That’s not war.  That’s treason.”

“In times like this, you have to do what you can.  The people would have revolted due to lack of food.”  Annie murmured.  She tore the bread she got in fourths, splitting it with Marcel, Bertholdt, and Porco.  “It’s because of that ‘recovery mission’ that I was able to get a whole roll.  They’re still running low.  People will begin to starve to death soon.”

Marcel scowled as he stared at the piece handed to him.  “It’s still disgusting.”

Porco huffed as he took a bite of this tiny bit of bread.  “Thank god we’re enlisting.  I’m sure those soldiers stuff their happy little faces every night.”

“You have the documents right?”  Marcel asked.

His brother shuffled through his bag and pulled them out.  “I have them here.  Should we fill them out now?”  He asked.

They opted to fill them out then and there, careful to add specific enough details to look convincing but not too specific.  One mess up could mean the end of the mission; a failure.  They would enlist tomorrow, and by the time they begin training, Porco would be twelve and the plan would begin to run its course.

The plan was simple; once accepted in the military, they would have to pretend to not know each other.  Marcel and Porco could know each other, they were brothers, but as for Annie and Bertholdt… they couldn’t know each other and they couldn’t know the brothers.  It was safer that way, they concluded.  That’s why, during orientation, Bertholdt stood near the back left of the formation, the brothers stood front center, and Annie stood front right two rows back.  

The Commander was relentless.  Each person he shouted and degraded looked completely defeated after just a few moments.  That was the point.  Bertholdt, Marcel, Porco, Annie...they’d all been through it back home.  Worse, even, and so this cueball man wouldn’t put a scratch on their emotional well-being.  They were already warriors.  They eyed him as he walked around and screamed at each person.  He shouted at the one short blond boy; Armin Arlert.  He shouted at the boy with the freckles; Marco Bott.  He shouted at the boy with the undercut; Jean Kirstein.  He shouted at the cute blond girl that Marcel had a hard time not looking at; Krista Lenz. He shouted at the boy who saluted incorrectly--even the Marleyans knew the proper salute, he had- no excuse!  Oh, that was Connie Springer.  He even shouted at the girl eating the potato; Sasha Braus.  Porco knew he couldn’t laugh or smile right now, but holy hell if the people were like this, seriously this mission was cake.

Credit was due, though, because he wasn’t heartless.  He could tell who needed it and who didn’t.  He skipped Bertholdt, Marco, Porco, Annie, and a couple others; a young female cadet and a young male cadet. Bertholdt caught himself in a dangerous thought of wondering what exactly their stories were.  He wanted to know, but he knew he couldn’t. _Shouldn’t_.

The first day here wasn’t excruciatingly difficult. The only thing they did was basic exercises (aside from Ms Potato Girl, who was still running her laps), endurance tests, and some mild book learning--What We Know About Titans, Volume 1.  It was a very small book with no volume 2 in the series.  They knew nothing.  Or, not _nothing._  The humans had discovered that cutting horizontally on the nape of the neck would kill them, but they didn’t know _why_ it killed them.  They knew that there were different classes, sizes, and some might be intelligent (hint, Bertholdt and Porco).  What the Titans were made of was outside the knowledge base. They didn’t know where the Titans came from or how they were ‘born’; but they didn’t need to know that if Porco was concerned.  The moment they discovered what Titans really were...that could be the end of the line.

The warriors couldn’t know each other, so when it came time to eat dinner, which consisted of a hardy 4 ounce piece of meat, bread, and a small bowl of stew (or a large bowl of stew if you got nothing else) they sat at opposite corners of the mess hall.  It was noisy to say the least.  Annie scanned the area, picking out the people that were there to fight and the ones there because ‘it was something to do.’  More often than not, the people here were just kids joining because they thought it’d be cool.  The ones she would be able to identify who were there to accomplish a goal had a different face; that boy over there, being surrounded by a gaggle of fellow cadets--Eren Jeager.  The girl sitting next to him--Mikasa Ackerman.  She briefly wondered what these two went through until she overheard the one called Thomas ask very loudly, “So you really saw the Colossal Titan?  Was he as tall as they said?”  Bertholdt, who was a few tables over, seemed to lean in a little closer as if that’d help his hearing.  Annie couldn’t help but scowl.  Curiosity was one thing but asking someone about a potential traumatic event...rude.  

Eren answered anyway.  “Yeah he was pretty big.  His head peeked over the wall.”

“What about the Armored Titan?  You saw the Armored Titan too right?  Was it scary?”

He thought about it.  “I don’t know.  There wasn’t much noteworthy about him.  He just looked like a regular Titan to me.”  

Porco took an angry bite of his food, pretending to not listen, but he was a bit irritated that this boy would say that his Titan was just ‘normal.’  Marcel’s muffled chuckles only fueled Porcos irritation. _Excuse you, asshole, I’m fucking special._

They curiosity not satiated yet, the kids pressed, asking other questions regarding the Titans, his experiences, if he saw a Titan up close; that last question seemed to upset him. “Hey ok, let’s leave Eren alone,”  Freckles--Marco--said, “there are probably some things he doesn’t want to remember.”  

“No it’s fine.”  Eren growled.  “Because I promise to slay all the Titans.”

Marcel and Porco glanced at him for a moment before initiating brief eye contact with each other.  ‘Watch out for this one?’  ‘Probably.’

From what the warriors had seen so far, nothing really about this bunch of new soldiers was noteworthy.  Most of them were not from Shiganshina and most of them severely underestimated the fright of the Titans.  Hell, even the warriors themselves were terrified of them.  This one though, Eren Jeager, knew.  He had seen Bertholdt.  He had seen Porco.  He had seen countless Pure Titans, and who knows if he’d seen someone get killed by one.  He had ambition, which was admirable in its own way.  If he were able to focus that passion into his training, he could cause serious problems.  When they transform, if he’s half as good as his thirst for revenge, they’d be in trouble.  But, of course, that was a major ‘ _if._ ’  Who knows, for all they were concerned, this guy could suck as a soldier.

“Are you serious?”  Under-Cut--Jean--spat out, a smug look plastered on his face.  

Eren frowned. “What?”

Jean smirked. “It’s good to have a goal but actually claiming you’ll kill _all_ the Titans?  That’s a bold statement, but if you go head-first into a fight with that mindset, you’re sure to wind up dead.”

“And what about you?  Running to the Inner Wall so you don’t have to face the problem?”

Jean shrugged.  “I don’t make the rules, Jeager.  I know what I want, and I want to live in the Interior and enjoy life.  If you want to throw your life away, be my guest.”

Eren was glowering at him at this point.  “How do you expect humanity to gain any traction if anyone with potential hides away in the Interior?  I think humanity might have made more progress if people cared about someone other than themselves.”

“Alright, alright.”  Jean smirked.  “You have a point about that.  You won’t see me changing my mind, but that’s good food for thought.  Truce?”  He held out a hand and Eren took it.

“Truce.”

Marcel’s eyes scanned the room; they lingered on the self-proclaimed Titan Slayer and Under-Cut Jean.  Honestly, they could both be worthy opponents if it came down to it.  He shifted over to Scarf Lady Mikasa.  Her attention was solely on Eren at this moment.  He wasn’t sure her potential quite yet but if she had half the spunk Jean or Eren had, she could pose a problem, too.  Beside her sat the blond boy, Armin.  He had little time during the day to observe him.  What his deal was, Marcel had no idea.  Freckles took a seat beside Under-Cut, the two seeming to have formed a decent bond in the short while they’d been here.  Improper Salute Man, Connie was across the table from Under-Cut.  He was still reeling about the fact that Eren had seen the Colossal and Armored Titans and had _no idea_ he was currently dining with them.  

Two people that stood out to him weren’t here; Potato Girl Sasha and that smaller cute blonde girl...Krista was her name?  Potato Girl was still running laps--or dead--but where did Cute Blondie go?

Marcel glanced over to Bertholdt, the only communication between them was brief knowing eye contact.  His eyes shifted to Annie in the opposite corner, who also gave him brief eye contact.  All of these dynamics sitting in this room right now honestly made Marcel giddy.  He would love an easy mission, but he found himself craving the rush of a challenge.

“No turning back now, hm?”  Porco asked under his breath.  

“No.  This is where it gets interesting.”  Marcel grinned.


	4. Cadets: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dialogue-heavy chapter, which I hate writing dialogue-heavy content as it distracts from the 'show not tell' ideal I really enjoy, my apologies. But it's 12 am and I'm so tired.  
> Maybe I'll fix it up and make it more elegant sounding later on, if I need to. Again, super dialogue-heavy chapters probably won't be typical.
> 
>  **Edit-** Changed abbreviation VMG (vertical maneuver gear) to ODM because ODM is canonical and vmg is dumb lol

The sleeping arrangements here were much better quality wise than the warriors have had in quite a long time.  Each bunk had two mattresses on each level; more compact to fit more cadets in a single barrack.  An added bonus was that there were no real assigned beds to sleep.  One could pick the bunk they liked, or they could try to bunk with someone specific.  Naturally some people opted to bunk with people they already knew, like Marcel and Porco, Jean and Marco, Eren and Armin.  Others bunked with people they thought had something in common, or made good first impressions.  The remainder just plopped in bunks that they felt like slipping into.  “Hey, is anyone sleeping here?”  A large muscular boy asked.  Bertholdt, who had already been lying down on a bottom wall-side bunk, glanced at him.   _God, what was his name again?  He looked pretty smitten with that one girl today...Hannah?_

“N-no, go ahead.”

“Thanks.”  He smiled and took the bunk closest to the walkway.  “You’re Bertholdt, right?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled again and held out his hand, which Bertholdt shook.  “Nice to meet you, Bertholdt.”

Bertholdt nodded.  “You too.”  The boy pulled the blanket over himself and rolled on his side, back facing Bertl.  

Bertl’s eyes darted around the room, observing the other pairs.  He couldn’t see anyone on the top bunks on his side of the barrack, but he was able to see the bunks across the walkway from him.  The bottom bunk housed Connie and...uh, Thomas?  The top housed Eren and Armin.  To the left, the bottom bunk housed Jean and Marco; the top, Marcel and Porco.  He knew the reason they bunked together was because of them being siblings.  That was understandable.  Eren and Armin were bunked together because they were friends,  Jean and Marco were friends.  Connie and Thomas...were friends, kind of.  They had hit it off today, at least.  They were all talking and laughing, sharing experiences of today, their life experiences, jokes, stories… Every so often, Marcel would glance over at Bertl but it would be short lived as he quickly turned his attention back to his brother.  Eventually the glances stopped completely as the two curled up and went to sleep.

Bertholdt wished he could be sleeping next to someone he knew instead of a random cadet whose name he couldn’t remember.  He was nice, very nice, but he wasn’t a _friend_ .  His back was turned to the cadet, his forehead touching the wall as he scooted as far as he could physically get from the boy beside him.  The wall was cool against his skin; a welcomed change to how warm he usually was.  It was the only comfort he had right now.  He wanted someone close to him, someone he knew.  Reiner, preferably.  He really liked Reiner.  Or Marcel, who was kind.  Even if it was Porco.  He just wanted _somebody_ .  How could he feel this way while being surrounded by nearly a hundred other somebodies?  Because they were _nobodies?_  Bertholdt gripped his chest when it started to hurt, a lump forming in his throat as he tried to shake the feeling of overwhelming loneliness.  

Was this how Annie was feeling right now, too?  Was she in as much pain as he was?

Bertholdt scrunched his eyes shut.  What did she look like?  What did _mom_ look like?  He couldn’t even remember...but soon he found himself drifting off to sleep.

_“My Bertl. My little Bertl.  I’ll see you when you come back, ok?”_

_“Yeah, mama!  I’ll see you soon.  I’ll make you proud!”_

_“I’m already proud.  I love you, little Bertl.”_

_“I love you, too.”_

 

╠╬╣

 

It was so _hot_.  If Marcel had to guess, this was one of the hottest days they’d experienced here since arriving on Paradis, and the abundant amount of clothing they were required to wear didn’t help.  He felt bad for Bertholdt, whose body temperature was always a little higher than normal.  He seemed to be holding his own though.  Straight ahead was Commander Shadis, in front of a contraption that he soon demonstrated to be a training device for the vertical maneuver gear.  There were six lined up in a row with an instructor by each one.  One by one each trainee lined up by each device and one by one they all took their turn practicing on the suspension.  

Some took to it naturally; Mikasa, Connie, Sasha, Jean, Marcel, Porco, Bertholdt, Annie.  Even Cute Blondie Krista seemed to get the hang right away.  Others took a bit of time to get used to it but still managed to get the hang of it eventually; Armin, Thomas, Marco, and that guy who bunked beside Bertholdt (who he had figured out was named Franz).  Still others--one other specifically--didn’t seem to do well at all, and found himself dangling upside down as the others jeered and taunted.  

Shadis knelt down beside Eren.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Jaeger? Correct yourself!  Use that flimsy thing you call a spine, if you have one!  If not, get the fuck out!  We don’t have resources to waste on someone who can’t even hang there!”

The warrior brothers watched him as he struggled to even regain balance at all.  The most he was able to do was to wiggle there like a worm on a hook.  Eren Jaeger, self-proclaimed Titan Slayer, the Hero of Walls, Defender of Mankind, the one who managed to put the warriors on edge just last night…

Marcel was disappointed.  

In the mess hall later that night, the teasing didn’t stop; it felt stronger than it had been during training and Eren felt like no matter where he went, those voices kept jabbing at him.   _“Wasn’t he the one who said he would slay all the Titans?”_

_“He can’t even get past ODM training.  How does he expect to kill anything, let alone Titans?”_

_“It was all talk.  Now that it’s showtime he has nothing to deliver.”_

Eren was...flustered to say the very least.  It didn’t matter what Mikasa said to him or what Armin said to him.  Soon he was nearly on his knees trying to find _someone_ who would be able to help him with his clearly obvious posture problem.  “Please you have to help me!”  He begged.  Connie smirked.  

“Well, I don’t really know how to say it.  I just feel it, you know?”  He shrugged.  “It’s like I was born to do it.”

Jean piped up with jeers of his own.  He and Connie threw back words that Eren had said just the day before, ‘if you can’t cut it here, you should just give up.’  Perhaps Eren made a mistake asking these two first.

“Actually,”  Marco interrupted.  “You should try asking them.  I heard they got really high scores.”  He said, pointing to the Galliards who were already sitting on their bunks.  Desperate, Eren and Armin scrambled up the ladder.   

Porco and Marcel were mid-joke when Eren poked his head up sheepishly.  The brothers peered at them for a few seconds before Eren spoke with a shaky voice.  “H-hey.  I need your help, please!”  The amount of plea in his voice made Porco chuckle and waved them up.  Marcel shifted over some to give the two boys more room.  “I was told by the guys that you were really good with the ODM.  Please, you have to tell me if there’s a trick to it!”

Porco scoffed and crossed his arms.  “A trick?  There’s no trick to just hang there.  As long as you stay upright, I guess.  Are you sure you don’t just suck?”  Marcel swatted his shoulder.   _Don’t be mean!_

“Well honestly there really isn’t a ‘trick’ to it.  You just need to let your body get used to being suspended.  It’s definitely weird, considering no one here’s ever used something like that before.  Is your gear all adjusted to your size?”  Marcel asked.  “Maybe if it’s too loose it could be affecting how you perform.”

Armin agreed.  “That’s a good point.  If I can do it, there’s no reason you can’t, Eren.”  

Marcel glanced around the room, and saw Bertholdt curled into a ball on his bunk, face pressed against the wall like he had done the night before.   _God,_ he looked so sad.  Marcel felt bad for him, maybe he should attempt to deliver him a friend.  “You know, I heard from a couple others that the tall guy over there was good, too.  I don’t remember his name.  Maybe ask him in the morning in the mess hall if he has any new pointers for you.  Otherwise just try again.  I have confidence in you, my man!”

Eren already felt his spirits begin to lift.

Annie’s situation wasn’t as similar.  She purposely kept away from anyone in the barracks, even going so far as to choose the bunk in the farthest corner.  Her bunkmate was Mina Carolina, whom she’d recognized from orientation the day prior and who’d taken the free bed beside Annie when she noticed that Annie was sleeping by herself.  She was a nice person in general, Annie noted, but she seemed a bit too cheery and upbeat for her liking.  At least she tried, though, which Annie appreciated.  “Hey Annie.  Good job out there today.  You’re a natural at the ODM.”

“Thanks.”  She replied.

“So, how are you liking the military so far?”

Annie shrugged and hoped that Mina, nice as she was, would leave her alone and let her sleep.  “It’s fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Do you miss home?”

“A little.”

Mina pursed her lips, unsatisfied she was getting such small answers.  “You ok?  You’re not very talkative today.”

Annie rolled over away from Mina.  “I’m not very talkative.  I prefer silence and observation over commentary or chatter.”

“You think I’m chattering?”  

“Not at all.  I think maybe sometimes people should sit back and enjoy the silence.  It might help them find themselves and understand others.”

Mina flopped on her back, giving Annie a light nudge before rolling to her side.  “I think maybe sometimes people should step out of their comfort zone and get noisy.  Life is noisy, so they should go with the beat.  Maybe it’ll help them understand others, too.  Goodnight, Annie”

Annie couldn’t help but smile a little bit at Mina’s retort.  She was right, after all.  Maybe someday, Annie would be able to get noisy after her duty was done.  Maybe.  “Goodnight, Mina.”  

 

╠╬╣

 

“Please, please, before I go try to do the aptitude test again, is there anything you can tell me about using the ODM?”  Eren begged over breakfast.  Bertholdt sat across from him, resisting the urge to shove this bread roll into his own face.  Damn, he was hungry, why was Eren talking to him _now?_  Still, Bertholdt did appreciate the company, even if it was some small loud kid asking him for favors.  “I heard from some of the other guys that you were really good at it!”

Bertl shrugged.  “I-I guess.”

“Do you have any tricks to the ODM?  Please?”  Eren pleaded at Bertl, who generally just looked a bit uncomfortable being here.  Perhaps Bertholdt was one of those shy types that liked to be left alone or one of those types who looked standoffish on the outside but was actually a giant sweetheart.  

Bertholdt shrugged again.  “Not really.  I don’t think so, anyway.  I just keep my back steady and let my legs hang there.  Were you doing that?”

“I-I think so…”  Eren wasn’t too sure.  The second attempt he tried, he slammed his head straight into the ground.  It was all a bit blurry after that, and he couldn’t remember exactly what he was doing before the injury or even a little bit afterward either.  “I just don’t...I don’t want to have to leave!  I worked so hard to get here!  I have to stay!”

“Why?”

“I need to kill them!  The Titans, I mean.  I’m going to join the Scout Regiment and take them down.”  Bertl blinked.  Was this guy for real?  He was still making those claims despite not even making it past day one?  He had to hand it to him, he had balls; but having balls alone wasn’t a threat to anyone if they weren’t able to even use the tools provided to them.

“You’re from Shiganshina, right?  So you know what it’s like...what _they’re_ like.  Why would you want to face them?”

Eren inhaled sharply as he tried to force the tears to not come out.  “I saw Titans up close.  I know how scary they are.  But I need to fight them.  That day, two years ago, I saw the Colossal Titan.  I saw him break down the wall.  There was a chunk of wall he kicked in and it landed on my house.”  

_I’m sorry._

“My mom couldn’t escape.  I--we, Mikasa and I--we couldn’t save her.”

_I’m so sorry._

“I saw a Titan pull her out of the rubble and it…it ate...her…”

 _I’m_ **_so_ ** _sorry._

Images of that day flooded back like a torrent.  Flashes of corpses, organ, body parts...was there a body part he passed that belonged to this boy’s mother?  Bertholdt set his bread down on his plate.  He didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.  “Maybe you’re over thinking and getting too top-heavy.  You could try focusing on your strength in your lower back and hips since that’s where the pivots are.”

Eren breathed a huge sigh of relief.   _That’s got to be it,_ he thought. _I can do this!_  “Thank you so much, Bertholdt!  I really owe you one.”

 _You owe me nothing._ “You should also eat more to get your strength.” Bertholdt smiled and shoved the remainder of his breakfast at Eren, waving a hand when Eren opened his mouth to protest.  Honestly, he wasn’t able to eat anything right now even if he wanted.

When Eren went up in the rig again, he took Marcel and Bertholdt’s input--he tightened his belts just in case and he made sure to keep balance on the pivots.  It worked.  Well, it worked for a moment before he lost balance and fell upside down again.  Bertholdt absentmindedly winced as Eren’s head collided with the ground.   _This is it, Jaeger._  Marcel thought. _You’re lucky anyway.  You can go live a normal life._

Not until Shadis had Thomas switch belts with Eren was he able to use the gear.  A broken clasp was the culprit, but now that was remedied.  The group around them cheered, and so did Marcel a little bit.  Even if this guy might be a little crazy for actively trying to hunt Titans, it still warmed Marcel’s heart that Eren was able to accomplish this feat.   _Good on you, Jaeger.  Follow those dreams.  Those extremely suicidal dreams._


	5. Cadets: Part 3

Training with the ODM was not nearly as difficult as the instructors had implied it would be.  The only real challenging thing about this was trying not to run face first into a tree as Porco had done earlier this morning.  He had underestimated his velocity and wasn’t able to correct in time which resulted in a face full of tree and a nose full of blood; and despite Porco insisting he was fine and damn-near having a tantrum, Shadis had him sit on the sidelines until the bleeding stopped.  “You’re here to train, not get your goddamn blood on everything!  Sit down, cadet!”  Marcel felt bad for finding Porco’s little hissy fit amusing but that didn’t stop him from zipping by and waving to his brother, who quickly responded with an inappropriate finger gesture of his own.  

In fact, the Warrior soon began to maneuver through the trees easily while still allowing his mind to wander. _‘What’s for dinner tonight?  Will there be another pop quiz in class today?  Where’s Cute Blondie?  I haven’t seen her all day.’_  This hardly distracted him from his job, but his cuts were beginning to get sloppy because of this.  He made a mental note for himself to keep it in check during training.  

Annie soon zipped past Marcel as she searched for a target on her own.  Her mind, on the other hand was focused solely on the task at hand.  There was no time for idle thought when the fate of the world rested on one’s shoulders.  ‘It distracts from your mission,’ her father told her.  That was moments before her departure and one of the most important pieces of home she held with her.  If she wanted to make it to the interior, she’d have to _fight._  She’d have to focus and study and secure one spot in the top ten, and daydreaming wasn’t on the list of requirements.  As a result of her focus, the cuts she was making were extremely deep and no doubt fatal to any Titan that would come her way.  

Bertholdt stayed by himself most of the time during training, occasionally finding himself swinging closer to Annie and, to her dismay, stealing a few of her ‘kills’.  He had managed to find some on his own, but wanted to stockpile some points for himself just in case.  He didn’t take all her kills, and he was sure she’d acquired more points than he had.  As he spun back around towards where Porco was sitting--still tending to his possibly broken nose--their eyes locked.  “He’s extremely talented with the ODM.  I’m not sure why he’s holding back.”  Shadis commented.  Porco moved his index finger over his middle finger, ‘up your game.’  Bertholdt knew what it meant; Shadis was calculating points and it seemed as if Bertholdt might be straggling just slightly behind the other warriors.  He wouldn’t hold back for long and quickly racked up the points faster than he had before, surpassing even Annie’s score.

“Ah, your face looks horrible!”  Sasha commented after they got back to camp.  Porco’s face was a variety of colors ranging from purple, brown, red.  Along with his nose, his lip was split and the purple bruises spread to his eyes.  Luckily they didn’t swell but it hurt to blink.  He was sure he’d knocked a couple teeth loose, too.  “I didn’t know it was that bad!  Does it hurt?”  Porco touched his thankfully unbroken nose.  Yeah it hurt.  It hurt a lot, but it wasn’t the most painful thing he’d had to endure.  After the warriors had acquired their Titans, they were taught to withstand the pain of losing limbs.  Nothing was bad in comparison to having an arm or leg ripped from your body at age ten.

“It’s not bad.”  He murmured.  Marcel slapped a hand on Porco’s shoulder.

“Maybe you don’t try to kiss trees next time.”

Porco tried to smile, but he couldn’t due to the split in his lip.  “Yeah, well, that tree just had really nice curves.  I couldn’t help it.”

Marcel snorted.  “You’re such a boy.”

As they entered the mess hall for their final meal of the day, Marcel’s arm hooked around Porco’s neck as he continued to tease, Krista ran up and tugged on Porco’s sleeve.  “I borrowed this from the medical building.  Nurse Cohmen let me borrow it.  It should help with the pain.”  She handed Porco a small jar of what appeared to be a cream or salve.  

He took the jar and examined the label.  “Thank you.”

“I hope it makes you feel better.”  She smiled, and both brothers’ faces burned bright red.

‘She is so cute!’  ‘She’s a goddess…’

Needless to say, Porco applied it immediately and very generously.  It did help with the pain, but it was sticky and that made eating a bit more difficult.  Still, it was a very much appreciated kind gesture.  Marcel caught himself glancing her way many times during mealtime, so much so that Porco jabbed him with his elbow.  “Hey Marcie, are you listening to me?”

‘Marcie’ turned his attention back to his brother.  “What?  Of course…”

“What did I say?”  Ok, Marcel wasn’t listening.  It was something about Bertholdt, he was sure.  But exactly _what_ Porco said about him was beyond him.  “Geez, get your head in the game.  Stop ogling cute girls and focus.”

Marcel furrowed his brow.  “I am focused.”  Clearly Porco didn’t believe him based on the face he made.  “I am!”

“Yeah, ok.”  Porco scoffed, shoving more whatever-this-was in his face.  “Anyways what I said was that it looks like Bertholdt found some friends.”

Indeed it looked as if Bertholdt was starting to socialize.  He had originally been sitting there eating by himself but shortly after he sat down, Eren, Armin, and Mikasa had sat by him and struck up conversation.  It was mainly conversation about the training they’d done today.  Eren had thanked Bertholdt for his advice with the ODM, earning an “I-it’s no big deal, I don’t mind helping.” from the giant. Franz and Hannah also found their way to where Bertholdt was sitting, and he began to feel a little bit claustrophobic.  

“So Bertholdt,”  Armin began, “how were you able to rack up so many points today despite having been a little behind in the beginning?”

Bertl shrugged.  Honestly he had no idea.  It wasn’t until afterward when they were debriefing did he realize that he caught up so quickly, or that he made the top five for the training session today.  He didn’t even know he was falling behind until Porco told him.  His mind flickered back to Porco’s hand signal, ‘up your game.’  Marcel’s idea of vague hand gestures had proven useful in terms of conversation.  Index over middle meant a variety of similar things along the lines of ‘improve your work/up your game/try harder.’  Holding out middle and index in the shape of a sideways V meant ‘understood.’  Balling a fist with the pinky held out meant ‘change of plans.’  Thumb and middle finger in the shape of an O meant ‘lay low,’ implying that someone might be onto them and to keep their distance; luckily they hadn’t had to use that one yet.

Now, though, it was Bertholdt’s turn to ask a question.  “How exactly do you three know each other?”  He inquired, gesturing to Eren, Armin, and Mikasa.

“Eren, Mikasa, and I are all childhood friends. “  Armin explained.  “I knew Eren a couple years before I knew Mikasa and I didn’t meet her until she came to Shiganshina and started living with Eren.”

“Your families lived together?”

“It’s not really something I like to bring up.  It wasn’t a great time for any of us.”  Mikasa murmured.  Bertholdt wondered what that meant, but he didn’t press.

“I understand.”

“Alright, I have a question for you, Bert,”  Franz said, “how do you sleep comfortably in those weird positions?”

Bertholdt began to blush.  He wasn’t fond of talking about his sleeping positions.  It’s not that they were anything to be ashamed of, he knew that perfectly well; he just didn’t know why he did them and didn’t understand why it was as amusing as it was to other people. “It’s just whatever’s comfortable.  I don’t know I do it until I wake up.”  He recalled last night, which in comparison was relatively tame.  He had managed to wiggle his foot between the top bunk and the wall so his legs were outstretched and his arms were tossed haphazardly, one above his head and the other on Franz’s face, rudely waking Franz from his peaceful sleep.  “Well I mean, it’s not like I sit there and plot how I’m going to sleep that night or plot if I’m going to hit you in the face.”

Franz gasped.  “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.  Sorry!”

“It’s fine.”  Bertl replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  “Sorry I hit you in the eye.  I’m glad it didn’t bruise.”

His bunkmate laughed, probably a little bit harder than was socially acceptable, but Bertl didn’t mind.  “Compared to Commander Shadis yelling all day, it’s nothing.  Hit me as much as you want.”

Soon, they were all joking and laughing, sharing stories of their lives before the fall.  Bertholdt was interested in hearing that Franz’s family were carpenters and had made several of the accommodations used here in this very training camp.  Hannah grew up in the farmland area of Wall Rose where they grew many crops that fed the refugees; she was ashamed that they weren’t able to provide for everyone and made the choice to join the military so she could help the cause.  If she could help force the Titans out of Wall Maria, they could grow more food again.  

Bertholdt shared his own fabricated story about how he too grew up in a farm town outside Shiganshina.  Eren’s own story about his experiences before and during the fall just made Bertholdt’s lie more believable.

“Tell me how!”  The group’s attention was caught by Jean slamming a hand on the table where Porco sat.  Jean looked irritated.  “How did you manage to surpass me in points today?”

Porco blinked.  “What?”

“In training!  How did you surpass me in points?”

The blond shrugged.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jeanny Boy.  Maybe I’m just that good?”

Jean scowled.  “No, no, seriously!  What did you do that I didn’t?”

Porco glanced at Marcel with a smirk on his face.  Marcel furrowed his brow.  ‘Don’t.’  His eyes said, but Porco didn’t care what Marcel thought.  “I dunno, Jean.  Maybe it says more about you than me.”

“What?”

Marcel cleared his throat, hoping that would signal his brother to stop.  

It did not.

“Well it seems to me that if I still got higher points than you even though most of my time today was sitting on the sidelines, maybe you really do suck that badly.”

Marcel piped up, trying to defuse the situation.  “Jean, maybe you should ask Shadis.  He was the one pulling numbers.  Don’t listen to this guy, he doesn’t have a filter.  Do you, Pokko?”  Marcel gave Porco a hard slap on the back.  Porco shot Marcel a harsh glare.   _Use that nickname one more time.  I dare you._  “Besides, if Jean really sucks, why wasn’t _he_ the one flying face first into a tree?”

Annie, who was sitting the next table over, found herself muffling a laugh at that retort.  Porco was a great guy but every so often his ego would get in the way and Marcel would have to reel him back in, usually in interesting and humorous ways such as this.  The girl sitting beside her, Mina, glanced over at the action.  “Hey, if they get into a fight, who’d win?”

Annie raised an eyebrow.  “Seriously?”

“Yeah.  Who do you think would win?”

She glanced over and observed the two boys.  Jean was taller and looked like he might have had more muscle mass, but if she knew Porco--and she did--then she knew he wouldn’t give up based on strength alone.  Even with his face as damaged as it was right now, Porco probably wouldn’t turn down a fight if Jean asked.  He was a scrappy kid and would fight dirty if need be.  Annie also taught Porco her defense move before they entered the walls just in case since he was smaller than Bertholdt and Marcel.  “My money’s on Porco.”

Mina was surprised.  “Oh yeah?  Mine too, actually.  He looks like he’s been in fights before.  Jean looks like he’s more talk than anything else.”

“I don’t think so.  He could probably hold his own.  I still think Porco would win but not before Jean gives him a run for his money.”

“I can see it.”

 

╠╬╣

 

Bertholdt’s eyes kept wandering each time they trained.  Each day they had on the sparring field his concentration would end up faltering a little bit more, and would instead fixate on a particular blonde that he kept telling himself he didn’t fancy.  He didn’t, he _didn’t_.  He would watch her as she walked around the field, barely giving anyone a passing glance and not engaging in any sparring at all.  How’d she do it?  How’d she always avoid having to do these exercises and not get caught?  Bertholdt’s concentration on her was broken when he was violently pulled backwards, caught by Porco in a waist lock.  “If I was a criminal, you’d be dead now.”  Porco smirked.  Only then was Bertholdt able to feel the wooden knife at his throat.  Bertholdt begrudgingly accepted his pitiful defeat and struggled to get free from his grasp, but the lock held fast; Bertl could swear that Porco’s grip was tightening and he was digging his knees into Bertl’s sides purposely, making it more painful on his ribs.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off.”  He repeated.

“Make me, Hoover.”

“Hey Pokko, play fair.”  Marcel called from several feet away.  

Porco glowered.  “Both of you need to keep your heads in the game instead of ogling girls.  It’s disgusting.  Not very befitting of a _soldier._ ”

“I’m not ‘ogling.’”  Bertl huffed, still struggling to escape the lock.  He had made some progress and managed to pull the wooden knife away from his throat and nearly wriggled out of the blond’s grasp, until he pulled Bertl back into a chokehold.  He tapped Porco’s arm.   _I give, I give._

Porco tightened his lock even more, his lips finding Bertholdt’s ear.  “Don’t forget why you’re here.”  It was barely a murmur, but Bertholdt couldn’t help but take it as a warning.  He didn’t know what Porco expected of him right now.  Bertholdt would never forget why he was here or what he’d done.

Shadis soon towered over the two boys.  “Alright, Galliard, that’s enough.  Let him go.”  Begrudgingly he did and Bertholdt rolled away from him, taking a few moments to catch his breath before standing back on his feet.

“Wanna go again, Hoover?”  Bertholdt shook his head.  Porco was small, sure, but damn was he strong.  He was far stronger than Bertholdt had originally anticipated.  Sparring with him today wasn’t the best idea Bertl had, and he was sure his ribs would bruise.  Porco scoffed.  “Weak.”  

Bertholdt eyed Porco’s face.  It had been a while since his tree incident but his face was already completely healed and he wondered if Porco used the time he spent in the restroom to heal little bits at a time.  Purple or not, his smug expression still bled through, and Bertholdt walked away.

Marcel scanned the field and spotted Annie leaning up against the supply shed adjusting her straps.  He sauntered over to her and leaned against the shed.  “Hey, hot stuff.  What’re you doing over here all alone?”

“What are you doing?”  She asked, clearly not amused.  

Marcel grinned, noting some of the other cadets glancing this way.  “Nothing.  Just wanted to hang out with a pretty girl.”  

“Is this an act?”

He leaned in close and whispered into her ear, “Why don’t you go play with Bert?  He’s having a difficult time adjusting.”

“Not my problem.”

“Please?”  

Annie saw Bertholdt from across the field.  He did look pretty alone right now sitting in the dirt by himself.  “Fine.”

“Thank you.  Now pretend I said something flirty?  They’re staring at us and I don’t want to look suspicious.”

“Ok.”  Annie replied and flipped Marcel on the ground before walking off to join Bertholdt.  “Don’t flirt with me.”  

Marcel groaned.  “Y-yeah, ok.”  The other cadets snickered.

Bertholdt had decided to take a few moments to rest; the scuffle with the Galliard wore him out.  It took him a longer than acceptable amount of time to realize Annie was walking his way, but she hadn’t seemed to notice or care.   In fact, he hadn’t noticed her at all until she cleared her throat, wooden knife in hand.  He shook his head.  “No thanks.  Galliard already maxed out my beatings for today.”

Annie noticed Bertholdt’s neck, still red from the chokehold Porco had him in minutes before.  “Then attack me.”

Bertholdt eyed her warily and noticed her iconic defense stance.  “No, I’m not dumb.”

“If you already know what I’m going to do, then it shouldn’t matter.  Counter my defense.”

Bertholdt sighed and stood before getting into position.  “Did Marcel ask you to come here?”

“Why?”

“I saw you talking.  That’s dangerous.  Talking to me now is dangerous.”  Bertholdt charged at her, anticipating her defense and adjusting accordingly.  She, however, still managed to grab him and flip him on his side.

She gently plucked the knife from his hands.  “If we’re living together for three years, never talking at all is more suspicious than talking only sometimes.  Talking about how suspicious it is will start getting suspicious.”

Bertholdt dusted himself off.  “‘Suspicious.’  It doesn’t sound like a real word anymore.”

“‘Suspicious.’”  Annie repeated, and a smile began ever so slightly pulling at her lips.  She tossed the knife to him.  “One more time.”

He charged her again, but he had remembered what happened last time and took care to not let it happen again.  Instead, he had psyched her out and as she lunged to catch him, he moved out of reach, his leg buckled her knees and he pinned her to the ground.  Still, he was disappointed.  “That wasn’t your full potential.”  He commented.  “Why did you let me win?”

Annie peered up at him.  “You needed a win.”

“Not like that.”

“Do you want to really fight?”

“No.”

“Then what do you need?”

Bertholdt still had her pinned, and as he stared down at her, his heart pounded.  “Nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shadis' Notes-
> 
> Porco Galliard; young and full of energy, he’s willing to continue the task at hand despite being injured which implies a high pain tolerance. His ability to think on his feet warrants praise and his physical endurance alone is valuable in a soldier, however his need to outperform his comrades makes for a tense and unsteady team foundation.
> 
> Marcel Galliard; highly skilled with the ODM. He’s extremely agile when soaring through the air and makes good use of the limited fuel tanks. He’s mastered every skill taught to him, and radiates fantastic leadership skills and has become very popular among his fellow cadets. Few match the skill level he’s acquired.


	6. Cadets: Part 4

It could really only be described as a downpour.  The ground was soggy and barely held together under the cadets’ feet and gusts of wind threatened to knock them all down.  Still, that was all part of the training.  One had to be able to traverse many weather conditions carrying supplies that would weigh them down--guns, food, the ODM gear to say the least.  It wasn’t something new to the warriors, but to many--of not all--of the other cadets, this was extremely new and many of them had given up.  Shadis commended those who managed to push forward through the rigorous session.  It wasn’t easy and this would be one of the breaking points when it came to the soldiers; here was where half of the cadets who were on the fence would call it quits.  It astounded all the commanders and instructors that many cadets would make it here, the final big test, and still drop out.

Still, despite having gone through it before in Marley, Annie wouldn’t say that it was easy.  It was hard.  It always was.  It was almost harder here though.  There were hundreds of people training in the same area.  The ground was already torn up due to all the feet digging into the mud and so footing was definitely an issue.  Several cadets fell down around her, and many of them would get up and turn back.  They’d rather work the fields than do this.  The dropout rate seemed to spike when physical endurance was tested and this absolutely was no exception.  Even Mina, who was a few steps behind Annie, was debating leaving right now.  Annie peered over her shoulder at Mina.  “If you give up now, that’s a higher chance for me to get into the interior.  What do you say?”  

Mina smirked.  Was this a challenge?  “W-well in that case I better give you a run for your money.”

Porco and Marcel found themselves near the front of the group; the people there hadn’t lost their footing.  They were probably going to be the ones in the top ten when they were graded, Marcel thought.  Maybe not all of them, but a majority of them.  Porco must have felt the same thing because he had seemed to have made a personal goal to surpass Eren and Jean and would get visibly irritated when either of them had passed him.  Words were exchanged between the three, usually snarky, but mostly in good spirits.   _Mostly._

Some, however, who straggled behind the main group still pushed forward.  Bertholdt had taken a look behind him and past all the other cadets, he saw Armin struggling to keep up in the back and his heart stopped.  There he was, a little eight year old Reiner doing his best to carry on in the rain, but a defeated look was plastered on his face.  ‘Wait for me!  P-please…’  

Bertholdt had to blink and shake his head to get Reiner out of his mind.   _Look forward.  Don’t look back.  Don’t care.  Don’t care._  He couldn’t help it though, Reiner kept entering his mind; his best friend looking so sad and defeated.  Desperate for help.  A curse escaped his lips as he fell back to join Armin.  “Are you ok?”  Bertl asked.

Armin wasn’t sure how to respond.  ‘Yeah I’m fine.  I just can’t run as fast as the others.’  ‘Not really.  I hurt so bad!’  ‘Does it look like I’m ok?  Help me!’  

Marcel must have thought the same thing because he, too, fell back to join Armin.  “What are you doing?”  

“I-I can’t...I can’t keep up…” Armin huffed.  “I’m not s-strong enough.”

Marcel furrowed his brow.  “Don’t say things like that about yourself!  You’re doing great!  Come on.”  He gripped Armin’s wrist and urged him to keep going.  “Just a little more.  We’re almost there.”

Through some miracle, or possibly some of Marcel’s motivation, Armin managed to pick up a little speed.  Bertholdt’s soul smiled.  He didn’t have the focus to make his mouth smile, but he was happy.  Marcel always had a knack for taking care of the little guys, and he was glad that Marcel still kept that piece of himself.  It was something Bertholdt sincerely appreciated.  It was a little slice of home he didn’t know he needed until now.

_“Come on, Reiner.  You can do it!”  Marcel cheered when Reiner finally caught up to them, drenched in both rainwater and sweat and collapsing to the ground.  “I always believed in you!  You’ll be the best Armored Titan ever!”_

_Porco didn’t appreciate Marcel’s praise for Reiner.  He didn’t say a word, but his expression was loud and clear.  ‘The Armored Titan is mine.’_

“Alright, cadets!  This is where it gets tricky!”  Shadis bellowed.  It seemed as if his voice boomed over all the other noise all the time, despite weather, and Bertholdt wondered how it was possible.  “Once you hit the clearing you’re going to be tasked with maneuvering through the trees via ODM!  Each one of you will be responsible for slaying at least one wooden Titan!  If you slay one, keep searching for more!  ODM is useful in all weather conditions, but be careful!  Watch your footing and trajectory.  One wrong move could pose hazardous.”

Marcel gave Armin’s wrist a squeeze.  “You got this from here?”

“Y-yeah.”  The ODM took far less physical strength to use than actually running.  Armin would be fine.

“Good man. I believe in you!”  Marcel smiled, and immediately deployed the ODM.  The blond followed suit.  

Jean turned to Eren and Porco with a big grin.  “Hey, whichever of us comes in last has to give the winner their bread rolls up until graduation.”

“Aw, thanks, Jean, but I don’t think you need to tell Eren to give me _all_ the rolls.  You can have some, too.”  Porco smirked and deployed his ODM.  Eren scoffed at Porco’s...was it a joke?...before following him, and Jean was shortly after, a small laugh escaping his lips.  

 _This is it,_ Bertholdt inhaled sharply, _this is where the line is drawn.  I will make it into the interior.  I will._ **_We_ ** _will._

 

╠╬╣

 

By the time the cadets had completed their training (Mikasa earning the top rank in terms of points with seven faux Titan kills; Marcel with six; Bertholdt and Annie tied at five; Porco with four) the sun had already set, and had been set for several hours.  The rain still poured over their heads but luckily the wind had died down.  This place looked exactly the same, Annie noted, save for the copious amounts of snow that had been here previously.  These were the same cabins that they had used for winter training several months ago and per Commander Shadis’ order, they were to bunk in the same cabins they had used then.  The setup was Marcel, Porco, Jean, Marco, Connie, Bertholdt, Nac, and Franz.  After the boys had removed their ODM, Connie made zero haste and flopped down on the first bunk he saw.  “Damnit, come on, Connie!  You’re getting the bed all wet!”  Nac groaned.  “Fine whatever, but that’s going to be your bed.  No tradeoffs.”

“Oi, it’s fine.  I don’t mind.”  Connie yawned.

“I do.”

The others made sure to change out of their soaked uniforms and get into the dry pajamas provided for them before making any attempt to go near a bed.  Porco shuffled his way to the top bunk above Nac and Connie’s.  Across the room on the top bunk were Jean and Marco, and the bottom bunk was Franz.  Bertholdt was the last one to change out of the gross uniform and as opposed to the others, he didn’t get into his bed right away.  Instead, he peered out the window into the rainy weather.  He hardly paid attention to the boys as they laughed and joked.  “Ok, ok,”  Nac said, “fuck-marry-kill Gina, Mina, or Mikasa?”

Marco raised an eyebrow.  “Really?  We’re doing this?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t we a little old for games like this?”

In unison, Marcel, Nac, Connie, and Franz yelled “No.”

“Well I already know my answer.”  Jean smirked.  

Franz let out a ‘ha!’ “We already know, too, Jean.  It’s hard to not notice how flustered you get around Mikasa.”  The room fell silent for a moment.  “You’d kill Gina?”

“Who wouldn’t?”  Jean snipped, then spluttered as he added, “N-not that I’d want to but out of those three...my hands are tied…”

Marco thought a moment.  “I’d have to say I’d bed Mina, marry Mikasa, and kill Gina.  She’s great but not...that great.”

“Probably the same, to be honest.”  Nac murmured.  “Ok so how about FMK, Sasha, Krista, and Annie?”

Connie thought.  “Hm, I’d probably fuck Sasha, marry Krista, and kill Annie.”

“Yeah me too.”  Marco agreed.  Jean nodded.  

Franz shrugged.  “Yeah same here.  Annie doesn’t seem that approachable.  What do you think, Marcel?”

Marcel tsk’d and his eyes darted about the room.  “Is that even a question, I mean, h-haha…”  Bertholdt glowered at them through the corner of his eye.  Of course they’d say that about Annie.  They didn’t know her.  They didn’t get the chance to know her.  She was a fantastic person.  Marcel and Porco knew that too; maybe that’s why they didn’t answer?

Porco rolled his eyes and flipped on his side facing away from the group.  “This game’s dumb.”

Jean crossed his arms.  “Alright, then what do you want to talk about?”

“We can talk about all those bread rolls you’re gonna owe me.”  Porco snickered, peeking over his shoulder at Jean.  Jean let out a noise of protest.  “Come on, you’d make either me or Jaeger pay up.  It’s only fair, Jeanny Boy.”

Bertholdt let out a small inaudible sigh.  He still peered out the window, at the small blonde talking to the Commander in the rain.  He could remember growing up with her in Liberio.  They had known each other since even before they had started the warrior program together and, while she’d always been pretty, he wouldn’t have ever thought that just watching her stand in rain would be one of the most beautiful things he’d see.  

He was jolted out of his concentration when a slap hit him hard on the back.  “Hey, Bert.”  It was Marcel.  He peeked out the window, then back to Bertl, who had since averted his gaze to the floor.  “You know,” he spoke in a low, hushed voice, “you should go for it.”

Bertholdt went wide eyed, and gaped at Marcel.  “W-what are you talking about?”

“I know you think you’re really slick but you’re not.”  Bertholdt felt his face get hot.  “Porco may give you shit but what does he know?  He doesn’t really have that same desire.  Or, if he does, he hides it really well.”

“It’s nothing.  He’s right, I should ignore it.”

“Why?”

“It could interfere with my duties...as a soldier.”

Marcel pursed his lips.  “Listen.  You...we...don’t really have much time left.  Why wait?” When Bertholdt didn’t respond or react at all, he sighed.  “I know why you’re fighting.  I know why you’re here.  Not just with the cadet corps, but with _us_.  Your reasons for fighting are noble, but don’t you think you should have,” he gestured to the window, “another reason to keep fighting?”

Bertholdt closed his eyes and inhaled.  Maybe Marcel was right.  Maybe he should at least attempt to go for it.  Or, maybe Porco was right and maybe it would distract him too much and cause the mission to fail.  He groaned.  “That’s not the only thing on my mind.  The time’s almost here.  Another week before I…well…”  He stared down at the palm of his own hand for several long seconds, balling it into a fist every so often.  “I guess it’s getting to me again.  The more I think about it, the worse I get.  The nightmares are starting to come back.”

“Who is it?”

“The same man.  The same day.  Same as before.  Sometimes it’s the infant, but mostly it’s the old man.”  Marcel placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.  

“If it gets too bad, tell me.  Please.”  Bertl nodded.  “Thank you.”  

Before too long, Bertholdt had crawled into his bunk beside his usual bunkmate Franz, who was already fast asleep.  Connie,, Nac, and Jean were also asleep, leaving Porco, Marco and Marcel the only three awake.  “You know, I never really thought about it like that.”  Marco hummed quietly.  “The sparring sessions really have nothing to do with what we’re fighting.”

Porco yawned and stretched.  “It’s a good way to let off steam though.  And heaven knows I need it.”

“You could let off steam other ways.”  Marcel nudged him.  Porco gave him a confused glare, unsure if he meant Titan steam or...other...steam.  “I’m kidding, relax.”

“Well either way, it’s probably useful if you’re heading into the interior.”

Marcel propped his head up on his hand and peered over at Marco.  “Do you know what branch of the military you’ll go into? I know you wanted the MP, but that was three years ago.  Has anything changed?”

“Not really.  I really want to go in and try to do good by the people.  I want to serve the king and fulfill my public service.  I just feel like that’s where I need to be.  If I can do good, that’s where it’ll be.”

“Yeah.  Me, too, Marco.”  Marcel murmured.  “I need to be there, too.  I know my duty in life is to serve my people and help them prosper.  This is the only way I know how.”  His mind flickered back to Marley for a brief moment, a small feeling of homesickness washing over him.

Marco nodded.  “That’s a noble aspiration.  I admire that.  Well, another week before we know if we can even attempt to fulfil our dreams, huh?”

“Not soon enough, if you ask me.”

“Hah, yeah.  Hey, Marcel.  You’re a great person.  I know that no matter what you do or where you wind up, you’ll do fantastic.”

Marcel smiled.  “You too.”  The two said their goodnights, and Marcel rolled on his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may only do one last chapter of cadet years...if that, so hang tight my friends ♥


	7. Graduation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (had to reupload this chapter because of a slight format issue...now its back and better)
> 
> Sorry for the late upload. It's been a hell of a week and had to keep postponing it. Also this chapter gave me a lot of grief, idk why :/
> 
> Also pretty Dialogue heavy- sorry friends ♥

Boots clicked on the rough stone atop Wall Rose.  The morning light was warm on Bertholdt’s skin as he walked, and the breeze was calm and cool.  It was quiet.  Probably too quiet.  He took a look around him.  He was the only one standing on top of the wall, which made him incredibly uneasy; where was everyone?  “Hey!”  Bertholdt shouted in hopes anyone would hear; of course no one would hear.  They weren’t around.  Nothing was around.  No soldiers were perched on the walls, no birds in the sky.  Nothing.  And then it clicked.

 _Oh, that’s right, this is a dream.  Of course…_ He was incredibly relieved to see that it wasn’t a nightmare taking place five years ago; the same scene he'd been reliving the past couple weeks.  This looked normal.  Bertl walked around some more along the wall, hoping to eventually change his surroundings to something much more enticing.  The view into the plains from the wall was nice, relaxing even, but it wasn’t that exciting and it especially wasn’t exciting without others to interact with; even if those people were merely manifestations in his own mindscape.  Someone to talk with at the very least would be a lot less boring.  Bertholdt inhaled a long, much needed breath and took a seat.  He let his legs dangle over the side of the wall and let his eyes scan over the town.  He honestly wasn’t sure if this was Shiganshina or Trost, or possibly another town he’d yet to visit.  They all looked the same from this height.

“It’s a nice place, sort of.”  Bertl heard a voice behind him and he smiled.  Despite however many people his brain could have manifested in his dream, he managed to summon the one person he wished he could speak with again; Reiner.  

“Yeah.”  Bertholdt glanced over his shoulder.  “It is.”  

Reiner stood behind him and peered over the edge, still sporting his young twelve-year-old look; Bertholdt had no idea what Reiner had grown up to be.  Apparently his mind didn’t imagine anything older.  “It’s a shame all of this will be dust soon.”  Bertl looked back to the town, somber weight crushing back down on his shoulders.  Of course he knew that, he didn’t need the faux boy behind him to remind him.   _Don’t say that.  Just be here for me, that’s all I want._  Soon, Reiner wrapped his arms around Bertl’s shoulders and the brunette found himself leaning into the embrace.  It was...nice.  It was oddly familiar despite being a dream and definitely something he really, truly needed.  “I hope you come home soon.”

“I do, too.  This place...it can ruin you if you’re not careful.”

“I should have been the Armored Titan.”  Reiner sighed.  “I could have been there for you.”

“You could have.”  Bertl murmured.  Of course he wanted Reiner as a companion.  Reiner worked hard, and got so close to actually attaining one of the nine and would have done well with it had he gotten the chance.  He hummed lightly when Reiner’s fingers started rubbing little circles on his temples.  I didn’t ask for that.  It was nice, though.  Comforting in a way.

Still, the thoughts of it turning to dust didn’t leave his mind despite his best efforts.  Visions of death and destruction flashed like lightning.  The sky overhead no longer clear as dark clouds billowed in.  He could hear screams from below start to ring out.  No. Please no.  The fingers that were on his temples clutched either side of his head, forcing him to look down at the ground.  “Look, Bertl.”  Reiner sung, his voice dripping with an innocence that made his blood run cold.  “Look at what you’ve done.  It’s already dust.”

Bertholdt stared wide-eyed at the destruction; the same goddamn memory he was trying to avoid.  Chunks of wall and boulder pelted the town akin to rocks against sandcastles; eventually, everything fell.  The grey-toned streets and walkways soon turned the sickly color of red.  The scent--oh, the scent, the very same one from five years ago that filled the air with the smell of death and rotting flesh.  

He reached out towards the destruction, his destruction, only to find his hand no longer with skin; his Titan form.  Bertholdt could see them, the soldiers swinging around the town and some swinging towards him, blades drawn with the intent to kill.  

They zipped past his vision so fast that Bertholdt couldn't lock onto any of them; at least, not until one zoomed straight for him and shoved their blade straight into his eye and pain shot through his entire body.

Bertholdt shot up in his bed, panting heavily in a sweat and clutching his eye.  God, he shook so much it hurt.  His heart pounded in his ears so loud he hadn't noticed Franz had been asking what was wrong, until Franz gripped Bertholdt's shoulder that pulled him from his fright.  "Hey!  Bert, what happened?"

Ignoring him, Bertl repeatedly fussed with his eye; checking his palm for blood, going back to touch it then checking his palm again; over and over and over until Franz gripped his wrists.  "Bert, are you ok?"

Bertholdt tugged his hands away from is bunkmate's grasp a bit harshly.  "I'm fine..."  He panted.  "Nightmare."

Franz blinked.  "Ok.  Anything I can do?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine."  He murmured, then turned to give Franz a weak smile, hoping it would reassure him.   _Just be quiet._ "Thank you, though."  

Franz sighed and gave Bertl a small pat on his back, grimacing slightly as he felt how drenched Bertholdt's shirt was.  "Alright.  Try to get some sleep.  Goodnight, Bert."

Bertholdt sat still for a long while until he was sure Franz had drifted back to sleep.  Once he was sure that there wasn't a chance he would still be awake, Bertholdt crawled slowly out of his bunk and made his way across barrack.  The wood floors were cold against his feet, but it was welcome.  He was always far too warm for his own good.  Bertholdt peered out the window.  The weather had lightened up a little bit since they'd came back from their excursion this morning, but it still rained and the ground was oversaturated.  It would probably still squish beneath their feet in the morning.

Still shaking, he felt his eye one more time.  Still no blood.  That was good, at least, and Bertholdt felt relieved that it really was only a dream;  he had known it was, but confirmation calmed his nerves.  He pressed his forehead to the glass and shut his eyes with a sigh. _What the hell is wrong with me?  Why do I feel like this?  They're evil.  I shouldn't feel like this._  

After a long, long while Bertholdt peeled himself from the window and made his way back to his bunk, noticing the way Porco leered at him from his own bunk.  Neither boy said anything, and as Bertholdt crawled back beneath the covers, he could still feel those eyes boring into the back of his head.

The next morning, Porco leaned against the wall of the barrack and tightened the straps around his thighs, every so often flicking his gaze to Bertholdt.  Sometimes Bertholdt would catch Porco staring at him and shift uncomfortably until finally he had enough of the looks and exited the cabin.  "Ah," Marcel hummed, "why do you have to stare him down constantly?"

"I want to make sure he hasn't changed his mind about 'performing his duties as a soldier.'"  Porco replied as he finished adjusting the final strap--these damned things were a pain in the ass.  "Is that so wrong?  You stare him down too.  You stare down a couple people."

Marcel frowned.  "Relax, there's only one more week and you won't have to deal with this anymore."

Porco rolled his eyes as he kicked off the wall and left the barrack.  "Sure."

The morning was a lot warmer than any of the cadets had anticipated.  The sun shone brightly, beating down on their heads, but the ground was still soft beneath their boots.  Bertholdt stood near the back, as usual, and Porco took a spot beside him.  

Commander Shadis stood in front of the group and shouted, also as usual, that this week was going to be only brushing up on training and exercises.  They had already been scored and ranked, and so any training this final week was going to be their last chance to brush up on any skills that may be lacking or knowledge they may have overlooked.  Porco had opted for sparring--hoping for a good few last hurrahs to get out some of that steam before they made their move.  He nudged the tall man beside him.  "Up for a spar?"

Bertholdt blinked.  "Not really."

"Scared I'll kick your ass?"  The blond smirked.  Bertl just stared at him, keen on the fact that Porco may just be trying to provoke him.  Unluckily for Porco, Bertholdt wouldn't let himself be persuaded.

"No."  He murmured and turned to walk away. "If you want a scuffle, go find Jean or Eren."

Porco scoffed.  "Pussy."  The retort earned him a swat on the back of the head and a piercing glare from Marcel.  

Bertholdt crossed the sparring field and walked up to an unenthused Annie, who was mingling by herself, per the norm.  She glanced up at him, and Bertholdt wondered how many times she or other people kinked their necks trying to look up so high.  "I thought talking was dangerous."

Bertholdt ignored her comment and proceeded with a question of his own.  "Can you teach me?"

She raised a brow.  "Teach you?  A move?"

"Yeah."

"Which one?"

"The one where you flip larger opponents.  I know you taught Eren and Galliard.  Teach me."

"Really?  You don't want to learn the sweep kick?"

"I actually want to learn both, but we can start with the flip."

Annie sighed quietly.  Bertholdt was big, very big, and didn't particularly have a reason for using that move unless he was going to actively try to fight some massive monster of a man.  Eren was smaller...Porco was smaller, and therefore had a reason to use a defense technique; unless Bertholdt wanted to save this move for if Porco wanted to spar again?  Another sigh and she nodded.  "Fine.  You've seen me do it a few times."

"Yeah."

"Ok.  I believe that learning hands-on is the best teaching method.  Come get me."  Bertholdt swallowed hard.  Why did she have to phrase it like that?  Nonetheless, he did charge at her and once again he landed on his back, pinned under her.  "Really?  You've seen me do this before and you still go down like that."

Bertholdt struggled to free himself from her grasp.  "You move fast.  One more time."

She smiled and released her lock on Bertholdt.  "No, try it yourself.  I know you're smart.  Take stance."  He did.  "Lower your shoulders more, yeah like that.  Are you ready?"

He grinned.  "Come at me."  Annie charged at him, and despite Bertholdt having to crouch a little lower than Annie ever would have due to height differences, he managed to grab hold and flip her on her back.  Bertl clenched his teeth, face red and heart pounding as he felt Annie's breaths on his neck.  "You didn't let me win this time, did you?"

"What?  No, not this time."  She huffed as Bertl released his grip.  "You did well.  Fighting people smaller than you though, you may want to rely on the sweep kicks.  You were too hunched."

"But it worked."

Annie rolled her eyes.  "If you say so."

 

╠╬╣

 

"Do you know what branch you'll go into?"  Marco asked after the ceremony.  He had sat at a table beside Jean in the far corner of the mess hall as the other cadets buzzed and conversed around them.

Marcel beamed as he took a seat across from them.  "Absolutely!  The Military Police!  Where else would I go?  And where are you going now that the time's come?"

"Oh, the MP."  Marco replied.  "I still want to serve the king."

"Still noble, huh?"

Jean chugged his indiscernible beverage and laughed, the sound the cup made was nearly deafening as he slammed it on the table.  "You know, Marco, you don't have to lie.  It's ok if you want to get into the MP because of the cushy lifestyle."

Marco smiled weakly.  "I appreciate your reasoning behind your choice, but that's not why I'm going."

"Yeah," Porco chimed in as he walked up to them, a plate of food and glass full of indiscernible beverage in hand, "not all of us have your over inflated sense of self, Jeanny Boy.  Some of us actually want to help our people."

Jean growled.  "What did you say?"

"I said, give me that roll you owe me."  A smile crossed his face as he sat beside his brother.

"Hell no, it's mine!  You said only until graduation!"

"It's still the day of graduation, hand it over!"

"Never!"

"Come on, Jean!  I'm a small, growing boy!  I need my nutrients!"

Marcel and Marco sighed as they simply listened to the boys argue, Marcel glancing over at his fellow warriors every so often;  Bertholdt had taken a seat near Armin and Mikasa and listened to whatever the hell Eren was saying to Thomas.  

Annie, on the other hand, was sitting with Mina, Krista, and Hannah (and Franz since those two couldn't ever be seen apart).  Mina had sat beside Annie, praising her and the others for actually obtaining a spot in the top ten.  Annie, though deep down was ecstatic about this, her exterior played it off as nothing special.  “It's nothing, really."  

"What?  It's not nothing!"  Hannah squeaked.  "It's incredible!  I'd love the chance to join the MP!"  

"I"m sure, but there's a lot you can do while joining the Garrison or Survey Corps too."  Mina chimed in, a bit sore herself she didn't even make rank eleven or twelve; no, those spots belonged to Krista and Armin respectively.  "Annie definitely deserves it.  She's a beast!  Look at her!"

A small smile teased at Annie's lips.  "Well, they don't let fragility into the top military branch."

"Speaking of looking,"  Hannah hummed, voice dipping down to a low whisper, "I think Marcel's into you.  He's been eyeing you hard tonight."

Annie's brow scrunched at the notion and aimed to deflect; even if it may ruin her comrade's reputation.  "I think he's been staring at Krista."  

Hannah laughed.  "Oh that makes sense!  Hey Krista, you should go for it while he's still around!"  Krista gaped at them.

Annie chimed in with a little gossip of her own.  "He does have a habit of calling you Cute Blondie.  I've heard him."

Krista's face turned a bright red.  "W-what?  No, no no!"

"You don't think he's attractive?"

"Well n-not that.  I mean, he's a handsome man!  I'm just not into...well he's not really my... _type_..."  Krista's face seemed to get even more red with each word she spluttered, and Annie waved her hand to stop her.

"You don't have to explain, I understand.  You do you."  Annie stood and collected her empty plate and cup and proceeded to take it to the dish pit.  As she walked across the mess hall and glanced at all of the faces, the faces of the people she had spent the last three years with, her heart sank.  Who knew how many people would see tomorrow night, if any at all.  She passed Connie and Sasha, two peas in a pod with great senses of humor.  She passed Eren, Armin, and Mikasa, three obvious best friends with ambitions larger than these walls they were caged in.  She passed Jean and Marco, whose friendship had blossomed into a strong brotherhood no one could deny; and she passed each of her warriors whom she doubted felt the same way and eyed her so much that the surveillance made her anxious.

Annie placed her empty dishes in the pit and gripped the side, taking the few moment she had here to breathe several long, deep breaths.   _This is dumb.  I'm stronger than this._  

"You ok, Annie?"  Porco's voice beside her jolted her out of her thoughts.  He set his own plate and cup into the pit.  

"Fine."

"Long day, huh?  Even longer tomorrow?"

She crossed her arms. _Go away._  "Yep."

He crossed his as well.  "Well, Fubar will be at point.  Berwick will be East of point, as will Pock.  Where will Leo be?"

"I know where she'll be."  She snipped.

Porco frowned.  "Where will Leo be?"  He repeated.

Annie glowered.  "Far South after escaping the demons' line of sight.  Why are you interrogating me?"

"I want to make sure everyone's where they need to go. I know all these demons have been...likable so far.  I want to make sure no one's having second thoughts."  

"If you ask Leo, maybe Pock needs to keep his attention on Berwick.  He's got a wandering eye."

A tsk from Porco meant that Annie was getting under his skin; not a difficult feat, to be honest. "Berwick wouldn't defect for some girl.  Why turn suspicion on Berwick?  Leo's not defecting, is she?"

Her blood started to boil.  "How dare you think that?"

"How dare he think what?"  Connie asked as he walked up with his own dishes.  "Everything ok?"

Annie looked to Connie, then back at Porco, and turned her gaze away.  Porco narrowed his eyes at her...was she fake crying?  "Galliard just said the only way I could have made such a high ranking was if I had done indecent things with the Commander!"  Her voice was loud and carried through most of the mess hall and all eyes turned to Porco as his face drained of color. His gaze following after Annie as she walked away with her face in her hands.

Connie gasped.  "What the hell?  Why would you say that, Galliard?"

Porco stuttered. "I-I didn't!  Annie, come back!  Annie!"

Marcel held out a hand as she walked by and the two exchanged a brief high five.

As Annie sat back down at her seat, Hanna, Franz, and Mina stared wide eyed.  "Did he really say that?"  Franz asked.

"No, I like to mess with him.  His reactions are gold."

 

╠╬╣

 

Bertholdt inhaled deeply as he peered at the wall once again.  It wasn't the same wall despite being visually identical.  It was still tall as it looked way back then.  This time, though, Bertholdt told himself, it wouldn't be the same as last time.   _We have to get home.  I will not hesitate.  I will do this for them; for Annie.  For Porco.  For Marcel...for myself._

The blade from his ODM slid seamlessly across his palm and he was once again engulfed in that heat.

His eyes opened, and there he stood, sixty meters tall once more, face to face with Eren.  Bertholdt's mind flickered back to the day Eren had mentioned the fact that his mother had been a victim of the Titans; a victim of Bertholdt.  Eren... Bertholdt peered at him, noting how stunned he and his crew around him were.   _Connie, Sasha, Thomas...Mina...Samuel... Go away!_ Steam erupted from his body forceful enough to knock the teens off the wall.

A swing of his foot and the gate was destroyed, once again giving Annie the chance to lure Titans in.

He reached out towards the tiny people running and scurrying 'like tiny insects beneath your foot,' he had described to Marcel after the attack five years prior.  The large hand outreached trembled, as he saw little boy crouched beside a pile of debris; curled into his knees and sobbing. _Who are you?_  Bertholdt thought. _Why don't you run?_

_Please run._

 

Two hundred meters East of the gate atop the wall was Marcel's group.  Marcel was still, staring at the Trost Gate, as his comrades scurried around him half-panicked and half-in shock.  It was strange, the destruction of the wall hadn't seemed quite so bitter the first time around; but this time, something sunk deep on his gut...something he didn't think he'd feel here.  Guilt, perhaps?

A hand gripped his arm.  "Marcel!  Titans have breached Wall Rose!  The Commanders are ordering a full briefing at Trost Headquarters!"  Porco alerted him, eyes and voice full of false panic; then in a lower voice,  "Is it time?  Should I do it?"

"Not yet.  This place will be swarming with demons.  Better wait and see where the Commander stations us."  Marcel replied as he prepared his ODM.

"'Demons'...That's putting it lightly."  Nac murmured as he walked by.  "That's a kind name for Titans."

As Porco readied to deploy his ODM and follow the rest of the crew, Marcel gripped his sleeve.  "Titans are already filing in.  Be careful on your way to HQ, ok?"

"You'll be right there with me."

Marcel nodded.  "But still.  I don't want to have to bring another body home with me.  One that I don't know."

Porco smiled.  "Don't worry."  He replied, then leapt off the wall and zipped towards the center of Trost.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grad Ranking  
> 1\. Mikasa Ackerman  
> 2\. Marcel Galliard  
> 3\. Bertholdt Hoover  
> 4\. Annie Leonhardt  
> 5\. Porco Galliard  
> 6\. Eren Jeager  
> 7\. Jean Kirschtein  
> 8\. Marco Bodt  
> 9\. Connie Springer  
> 10\. Sasha Braus


	8. The Battle of Trost, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a boring chapter, but something to get the creative wheels turnin' again.  
> Edit- I may rewrite this chapter a little bit. The ending was super abrupt and perspectives got a little jumbled as I hurried to finish it so it got messy. I'll have to clean it up ;o

As the fates would have it, Marcel had been chosen amongst his ranks to lead a defense squad at the vanguard defending and holding back Titans as the citizens of Trost made their exodus; and to his relief, his squad consisted of himself, his brother, Hannah, Franz, as well as Tommen and Gina, a couple low-ranking graduates from the 104th.  At least his squad was comprised of people he somewhat knew and trusted, one of which he would know better and trust deeper than any of the other people on Paradis.  Glancing around HQ, he noticed everyone else starting to form their own groups; Eren's consisted of himself, Armin, Nac, Millius, Mina, and Thomas--somewhat sad since Eren was the only Top Ten to be put in the group; Marco's consisted of himself, Annie, Bertholdt, Krista, Sasha, and one other cadet he hadn't had the time nor energy to give a shit about getting to know.

Where Connie, Jean and Mikasa had run off to, he didn't know.  All he knew was he needed to get through the day with himself and his brother intact and as they headed for their assigned location, he made sure to drill that into Porco's head.  ' _We're in this together'_ s and _'It's not cowardice to hide for a while_ 's were his top focus, and to boot Marcel had tried to reiterate how much he _really_ did not want to bring home a body.  Despite Porco's scowl-- _I'm not a kid, geez!_ \--and despite Marcel trying his best to comfort and protect his brother, everything he was saying was only increasing Porco's anxiety.  

No, he didn't want to go out and fight the Titans.  No, he didn't want to risk his life saving the people they were supposed to be killing.  No, he didn't want to go out into the fight without even being able to wield his Titan power.  He was only doing this because they had to earn their way into the interior; despite having the ability to get there already, they needed to have destruction in their wake and weaken the militia.  Porco would have loved to go all the way through undetected and wreck everything later, but forcing the wall-dwellers to exhaust their resources decreased the likelihood of retaliation should the warriors get caught.

Still, this did nothing to alleviate his anxieties over this goddamn battle.  Halfway through Marcel's newest point of 'corpses can't use their gas reserves, and if you run out please look for a corpse to--' Porco interrupted him.  "Ok, Marcel, chill the hell out!  I know you're trying to look out for me, but it's really not helping my morale."

Marcel let out a sigh.  "You're right.  I'm sorry.  It's probably freaking you out more."

"Seriously.  If you want to give a morale boost to anyone, how about them?"  He motioned to Franz, Hanna, Tommen, and Gina.  "They didn't make anywhere close to top ten."

Gina huffed, a bit of annoyance tinging her voice.  "Thanks for pointing that out."

"No problem."

"But he makes a good point."  Franz stated.  "We didn't make anywhere close to the top ten, but they chose Marcel to lead this squad for a reason.  If we stick to his plan, we might get out of this with more than just our lives."  

Marcel grinned.  "Damn straight.  Thank you, Franz.  Really, we only have to survive long enough for the citizens to evacuate, then scale the wall to safety.  We can do that, right?"  The group nodded in agreement.  "We're in this together.  Have each other's backs, ok?"

As the gaggle of cadets prepared to begin their attack on the incoming giants, Porco pulled Marcel aside.  “What’s the plan?  Does Pock move?”

“No, he stays put.  If it’s possible, try to make an escape during the commotion.  Sneak into the interior undetected.  Might make it easier for us to actually locate the Coordinate if less people think we’re alive.”

“Do Fubar and Leo know about that?”

“Berwick spoke this morning to them.  Once the troops ascend the wall, the Quad will reassemble and go from there.  If we can, lose the _dead weight._ ”  He whispered, gesturing to the other cadets in their squad.  “Easier to escape.”  Porco nodded.  Definitely needed to lose the extra witnesses.

With a small squeeze on his brother’s shoulder, Marcel took a deep breath.  “Let’s go.  Remember, if you need anything, come find me.”

Porco scowled.  “ _Christ, ok, I get it._ ”

 

╠╬╣

 

It didn't matter how many necks Bertholdt sliced open, each time he turned around, there was another damn Titan with its half-stoned eyes fixated on his team.  At least the strategy Marco had implemented worked wonders; Marco would grab the Titans' attention, Krista and the other cadet, Adela Schmidt, would cover him; Sasha, Annie, and Bertl would be the ones to go in for the kills.  It honestly was a fantastic strategy, if he had to admit, and it worked for most of the morning.  

It did become apparent, though, that they were spending an awful lot of time down here in the town when they realistically should have already started climbing the wall.   _Aren't these civilians evacuated yet?_  Annie growled to herself.   _What the hell?_  She found herself leaning against a chimney to catch her breath.  If someone had told her just how exhausting using ODM could be in high tense situations such as this, she’d never have believed them.  Her eyes scanned the town; smoke billowed from various houses, and she could see Titan heads bobbing through the town.  Despite her best efforts to drown them out, every so often, she’d hear a scream in the distance that sent chills through her.  “Annie!”  A voice called out from behind her.

Bertholdt, Marco, Krista, Sasha, and Adela came up to join her.  “Are you alright?”  Marco asked.  Annie nodded.

“Just needed a moment.”  She breathed.  Bertholdt took a step towards her, though opted to keep his distance.  He wouldn’t claim to be the best at reading people, and he had no idea what might be running through her head; maybe she was tired, or maybe she was having doubts about the mission.  Bertholdt had doubts.  Many, many doubts.  Still, he kept his eyes on her, just in case.  

Krista sighed and sat down, beads of sweat rolling down the side of her face.  “Shouldn’t we be done by now?  Shouldn’t the citizens have left already?”

“You’d think.”  Annie hummed.  

“Hey!”  The group turned to see Marcel and Porco swoop down beside them.

Marco went pale as he noticed the lack of squad members.  Marcel should have had four others in his team.  Where did they go?  “What happened to the rest of your team?”  

Porco scowled and snapped at Marco.  “The hell do you _think_ happened?”

“Hannah ran out of fuel mid flight.” Marcel explained, his eyes empty as he recalled the situation.  “Franz refused to leave her side.  We went back to find them, but there was no trace.  Gina was...she was eaten.”  His eyes latched onto Annie and Bertholdt.  They seemed to be fine, no injuries or scratches, and no sign that anyone was on to them.  That was good; perfect.  Annie, moreso than Bertl, looked exhausted.  She had less spare blades than Bertholdt, so it was possible she had more kills; that would explain her exhaustion.  He was still glad to be back around those he considered brethren.  Sure the cadets were ‘comrades’ in a sense, but the Warriors were his family.

“Are they alright?”  Bertholdt asked.  “Franz and Hannah?  Are they safe?”

He and Marcel’s eyes connected with a near-deafening silence.  It was no surprise that he and Franz had gotten along especially well.  Hell, he was probably one of the only friends Bertholdt had made in these last three years.  If Marcel hadn’t known better--which, how the hell should he know what he knew or not?--he’d say that Bertholdt grew to care for the gentle giant.  “They were alive when we got separated, if that’s what you mean.  We couldn’t go back to find them.”  He responded after a moment.  Bertholdt chewed the inside of his cheek.  He couldn’t help but wonder what his bunkmate could be going through, or if he was alive at all.  Then a small breath escaped him. _I shouldn’t worry about Franz or Hannah.  They’re not worth sympathies.  I have to worry about the Warriors._

Porco shook the contents of his fuel canister.  “Damn it, I’m running low.  Wasn’t someone supposed to bring us reserves?”

“Remember what I said about running low on fuel?”  Marcel reminded him.

“For fuck’s sake, stop!”

“He’s right, though.”  Marco mumbled.  “Someone was supposed to bring reserve fuel and blades to us.  No one’s come to give us anything at all.”

Sasha let out a light gasp.  “Could HQ be under attack?  Could that be why?”

Annie crossed her arms.  “It’s possible.  Maybe we make our way there and see what we can do.  If it’s under attack, we help out.  If it’s not, we stock up.”

“And kick the asses of the shits who were supposed to help us out.”  Porco grumbled.

“Hey, look!”  Sasha exclaimed, and pointed to a rooftop several buildings away.  “Is that Armin and Connie?”  Marcel squinted.  Connie and his small squad was there, sure.  And Armin?  Indeed it was Armin, but why was he there without his squad?  Wasn’t he in Eren’s…? _Oh._  Truth be told, Marcel didn’t want to believe it.  He didn’t want to believe the Self-Proclaimed Titan Slayer Eren Jaeger would die so soon; he couldn’t really say it was an impossibility.  That boy had more ambition than actual skill and that probably cost him his life.  If Armin was the only one left, he guessed that Eren led the others to their deaths as well.

“We should see if he’s alright.”  Krista hummed.  Marcel perked up.

“Yes.  Yes, excellent idea.  Let’s go.”  He chirped.

Porco rolled his eyes.  “Thirsty much?”  Marcel sneered before heading over to meet Armin and Connie; the rest of the gaggle followed.  By the time the group had made it to them, Mikasa and her small group had joined the rooftop.

Indeed, through talking to Armin, Eren and the squad had been killed as Marcel had predicted.  Rough.  Despite their rivalry, Porco seemed most distraught about the news out of the Warriors--’distraught’ being a term Marcel would consider loose.  Sure, he pretended to be saddened by the news, but Marcel was one of few who could read right through him.  He was... _disappointed?_  “Shit…”  Was all the blond could muster.  

Marcel’s real focus was on Mikasa, though.  Eren, her best friend, her brother, confidante, had been killed and every fiber of her being was still fixed on the mission.  Honestly?  Marcel admired that.  If his own brother was killed...well, he had no idea what he’d do.  He definitely wouldn’t be this calm about it.  

Annie stepped closer to Marcel.  “Should we go?”  She murmured under her breath.  “Now?”

“No.  We have to resupply first.”

“Right.  We’ll be sitting ducks without supplies.”  Marco hummed.  “I say we take Armin to HQ and let him rest there.  We’ll resupply then.”

“So I noticed the route down Fifth street is a lot clearer than the other streets,”  Connie explained.  “So if we can go that way, we’ll probably fare a lot better.  Hopefully no Titans wandered there.”

“We should wait a little bit, form some sort of plan.  We don’t fully know what’s going on out there.”  Marcel commented, earning a mild groan from his brother.

“Why?  Why should we wait?  We don’t have _time_ to wait.”  Porco snipped back.  He exchanged a glance with Marcel, who was not hiding his frustration with Porco’s challenge.  

Marcel crossed his arms.  “So you want to go headfirst into a minefield without even knowing where the mines are?”  Without waiting for word, or giving Marcel any kind of retort, the blond deployed his ODM and zipped towards that direction.  A swear fell off Marcel’s lips as he followed, Annie and Bertholdt close behind, followed by the rest.  

What the hell is he doing?  Marcel screamed inside. He could hear Bertholdt calling behind him, but he didn’t care.  He didn’t care about Bertholdt right now, he only cared about catching up with his brother and scolding him for flying face first into a danger zone.  He cared about keeping him safe.  Hell, he didn’t even care to watch where he was going, his eyes were focused solely on his brother. _I am not bringing home another body.  I will NOT bring home another body.  I will not bring home a stranger.  I will not care for the person that eats you.  I refuse!_   “Porco!”  He shouted, and earned nothing but an over-the-shoulder glance.

One that morphed into a terrified stare.  For a moment, a fraction of a second, Marcel was confused.

Until he came to an abrupt, disorienting stop.

 


	9. The Battle of Trost, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totes not fixing chapter 8 because I'm a lazy S.O.B. The ending of this chapter got a little bit rushed as well, but I mean...eh
> 
> Also in chapter 8 I realized Marcel said “We went back to find Franz and Hannah” then had him say “We couldn’t go back to find them.” I think I meant to write “We couldn’t find them when we went back”. Idk if anyone noticed but I sure as hell did.

_“Do you remember it?”  Porco asked, curled up in his cot within the training facility.  Marcel was in the next cot over with his eyes fixated on the ceiling.  It wasn’t until Porco asked again did he turn to him. “Do you remember what it feels like?”_

_“What?  Having my arms cut off?”  Marcel raised an eyebrow, to which his brother nodded.  Marcel turned his eyes to the ceiling once more. The room was nearly black, barely any moonlight came through the windows.  The slow breaths coming from the three cots on the other side of the room belonging to Bertholdt, Annie, and Pieck was the only noise he heard, somehow calming to listen to.  His mind flashed to earlier today, and he waited a few moments before responding to Porco’s inquiry. “Do you remember?”_

_Porco shook his head.  “I didn’t do it today. They’re waiting until tomorrow.”  He replied. Porco remained silent for a long while, struggling with the thought of having to go through the training.  “I’m scared.”_

_“Listen, it’s not too bad once you heal up.  I can’t feel it at all anymore.” Marcel turned back to him and smiled, reaching between the distance between their cots and held his brother’s hand, giving it a light affirming squeeze.  If he were to be honest, he still felt the pain even now; he could feel exactly where they cut through him--the flesh, the muscle, the bone. If he had a pen, he’d be able to clearly mark where he’d been severed. But there was no way in hell he would tell his brother that.  “It’ll be ok. Don’t be scared. Ok?”_

_The small hand in Marcel’s squeezed back.  A few sniffles from the blond before a smile crept up on his face.  “H-heh, yeah.”_

_“You’ll be just fine.  You’re pretty tough. Even Dad thinks so.”_

_Porco’s face lit up and seemed to have even brightened the dark room.  The little boy wouldn’t admit it, but Marcel knew that all his brother wanted to do was to make his father happy with him.  “Really?”_

_“Really.”_

_He let out a proud giggle.  “That’s good. And if anything, at least I got the Armored Titan instead of Reiner.”_

_Marcel’s smile faded.  “Yeah.”_

_“So, what does it feel like?  I want to know so I can be ready.”_

_Marcel inhaled sharply and peeled his hands from Porco’s.  Rolling onto his back, his eyes were once again fixed to the ceiling; nothing was there, but a blank white ceiling was the only thing that helped Marcel clear his mind.  With a voice nearing a whisper, he breathed, “It burns.”_

It still did.

He opened his eyes, slowly; his brother, kneeling right in front of him, soon coming into focus.  “You feeling ok?” Porco asked.

Marcel groaned and winced in pain, pain originating from his left arm and from his head.  “I hurt.”

Porco nodded.  “I’d assume so.  You got your arm bitten off.  Almost up to the shoulder. Any more and you might have died. Then you fell and smacked your head on the ground and were out cold.”

That would explain it.  “Where's Annie and Bert?”

“Outside, heading to HQ.  They're keeping the others at bay so to not blow your cover.”

“Oh God, the others didn’t see my arm go, did they?”

“I don’t think so.  The whole thing went down too fast.”

Marcel looked around--they were inside sitting on a plush little couch; this was a house, probably.  Probably one that’d been abandoned in the evacuation. Probably one where the residents might not ever return.  It was dark, dusty, quiet. He couldn't hear much commotion from outside. It was a decent setup. At least it was a place to stay for now as he healed.

The blond tsked.  “Hey, I know it's tiring, but start healing a little faster.  We have to get out soon.”

He huffed, the plumes of smoke fluttering with his breath.  “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?”

Porco sighed and took a seat beside his brother.  “No. It wasn’t you. The Titan was lured by me being a dumbass. It just caught you by mistake.  Should have gotten one of those devils.”

“They’re not really devils.”  Marcel murmured, his eyes fluttering closed.

Porco’s eyes lingered on Marcel, who had since grown quiet.  Perhaps he was asleep? Healing had always taken a bit of a toll on him, more so than the others; transforming took the most energy from Bertholdt--understandable since his Titan was gargantuan in size.  Annie tired more quickly if she had to transform multiple times a day; and Porco...he grew exhausted the more active he was in his Titan form. Fighting, while a skill he harbored, took more energy with how heavy his Titan actually was.  Most movement, actually, expended more energy than Annie or Marcel’s Titans did. But Marcel…healing never really agreed with him. He remembered back when their limbs were removed for the first time, Marcel slept for hours while he healed.  

For some reason, though, Porco thought he looked more peaceful now than he did back then.  Coming to terms with being a Warrior must have done him well. Another small sigh escaped his lips and he brushed a few stray blond hairs back.  “I’m sorry.”

Marcel lightly swung his good hand at his brother, tapping his cheek with a light  _pap_.  “Stop it.  You don't need to apologize.” He murmured sleepily.

“If I wasn’t reckless...I’m not usually like that.  You know I’m not. I was scared.”

“We all are.”  

“It won’t happen again.  I follow you. I won’t do anything unless you tell me to.”

“Shhh.  Don’t say that. Just...just let me sleep.”  

Porco bit his tongue and stayed quiet.   _‘Keep each other safe.’_    _‘Come back home now, you hear?’  ‘I’ll always love you boys. You’re my life.’_ His mother’s words buzzed like flies in his head.  God, he wished he could swat them away...like flies.

A glance at Marcel’s arm, and he was impressed by how much it had healed already--up to the forearm.  They could probably head out shortly; hopefully it wasn’t too long to where _they_  might get suspicious.  Bertholdt and Annie were smart.  They could distract the herd long enough so they wouldn’t notice how long they’d been gone.  But they’d have to find new clothes for Marcel. Primarily, a new brown uniform jacket. A missing sleeve would raise more suspicion.  A corpse doesn’t need a jacket.

He didn’t think much of it at first, the scuffling in the background coming from upstairs.  An animal, he’d assumed it was, until a small voice at the top of the stairs chilled him. “Why is smoke coming from that man?”

A child.  A little girl.

“Where’s my daddy?  Daddy was supposed to find help for mama and me.”

 _She saw us._ Porco stood from the couch, eyes glued to her in her little blue dress, his hands moving almost autonomously to his ODM.  

“Are you here to help us?”

 

╠╬╣

 

Marco had to hold Jean back from completely assaulting the frightened support team barricaded inside HQ.  The support team that was too afraid to come outside and help the fighters. The support team that had allowed so many deaths.  

Annie and Bertholdt stayed out of it and stood off to the side with the remainder of the troops, unsure of exactly where to go from here.  Bertholdt’s eyes flicked over to Annie every so often, noting how exhausted she looked. He didn’t blame her, of course. Everybody was. Even he felt his own heart beating in his chest and the aching of his muscles.  “How are you feeling?” He murmured under his breath.

“Fine.  Yourself?”  Annie replied, eyes staring straight forward, fixed to an unsightly crack in the wall ahead.

“You know what I mean, right?”

“Of course.”

Bertl blinked.  “I’m...I’m coping.”

“Right.”

“Do you…”  he hesitated putting his thoughts into words, trying to make them undecipherable by the group around them, “do you think  _they’re_ faring well?”

“I would hope so.  It’s not something I want to dwell on right now.”  Annie emphasized the last part, and Bertholdt took the hint to stop talking about it around these people.

“Yeah.  You’re right.”  Bertl sighed and took several steps away from her.  Instead of worrying, or trying to not worry, he opted to use his attention to see if any of the other soldiers needed anything from him.  

Annie sat down and leaned against a wall, her knees tucked tightly to her chest.  She felt bad for dismissing Bertholdt, but it was better for her sanity if she didn’t feel like she was running the risk of ruining the mission.  Of course she was worried for her comrades. Terrified, even, if she had to pick a word. But she couldn’t say that.

The yelling from Jean was just background noise giving her something to focus on besides the ‘What if he died?’  More importantly, ‘what if I die?’

She was pulled from her thoughts though, as soon as the two came barreling through the already broken window.  The two rolled on the ground, momentum keeping them from making a decent landing, but were otherwise unharmed.  _Thank God._

“Holy hell, you’re ok!”  Connie gasped, grabbing Macel by his shoulders and shaking him.  “Don’t scare us like that!”

Marcel half-smiled, still drained from healing and the shaking wasn’t helping.  He’d healed his arm up and found a jacket from a dead cadet in the streets. The injury on his head was unhealed--had to keep up appearances.  “Yeah, just got dazed. I’m glad you’re all safe. Did you figure out why we weren’t able to get resources?”

“Yeah!”  Jean growled.  “Because  _these_  assholes were just sitting in here!”

“There were Titans everywhere!”  A small brunette cried out mid sob.  

“Yeah, no shit!”

Annie kept her eyes on the brothers.  Marcel seemed to be fine. Tired, sure, but he was fine and giving his one hundred percent in making sure he wasn’t blowing his cover.  Porco, on the other hand, distanced himself from the group, secluding himself in a corner. She couldn’t tell, but something was very off with him.  She stood from where she was sitting and made her way over to him. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t look at her.  His gaze wasn’t focused on anything--more like he was looking through everything.  “Yep.”

“You’re pale.”

“Oh.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you need Marcel?”

“I need you to back off!”  Porco snapped. Annie was taken aback by the aggressiveness of his tone, and even Porco was surprised by it.  “...Sorry. I’m just…it’s just so...” He stammered, then sighed, burying his face in his hands. Annie left Porco alone and headed to where she had been sitting before, but not before bringing Marcel’s attention to his brother.  She tapped his arm and gestured to Porco.

Marcel called to him, but when he didn’t respond, he took the initiative to go to him.  “Everything ok, brother?” Porco still didn’t respond. Instead, he stood there with his face in his hands and trembled.  Was he crying? “Hey…”

“I’m so sorry.”  Porco whispered. “I’m so sorry.  I almost got you killed.”

“But I’m still here.”  He gripped his brother’s shoulders.  “See? I’m fine.”

“It’s not just that though.  It’s…I didn’t want to do it...but she saw you, and...”  Porco sniffled and stared down at his hands, and the small amounts of blood that wouldn’t fade from his jacket sleeve, “nevermind.  You wouldn’t understand. You wouldn’t...”

“What happened?”

“You wouldn’t understand how it weighs on a person.  You’ve never done it.”

Marcel gaped.  “Done what?” Porco stopped talking and instead just pulled his brother into his arms.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I’m here for you. I love you.”

Their moment was cut short as a loud boom burst through the room.  Disoriented, the group of troops looked to the course of the boom and their blood ran cold.  Two Titans were peering at them through a hole they made in the side of the building.

But just as fast as the Titans showed up, they were gone.  Rather, they were removed. The troops gathered at the hole and stared out at the sight--a single Titan was attacking the other Titans.  Not the humans. The Titans.

Marcel stared wide eyed at it.  He knew what it was, of course.  All the Warriors did.  They'd only heard of it, though, this Titan.  The Marleyans had lost it years ago.  How it showed up here of all places was a mystery to him.  The chatter among the troops was that it was an Abnormal.  The Warriors went along with it, but they knew better.  No Titan, Abnormal or not, would attack other Titans.  This wasn't an Abnormal.

This was a gift.


	10. The Battle of Trost, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one’s gonna be mad if I skip the whole ‘fighting the Titans in the basement’ part, are they? Yeah let’s pretend that’s a thing that DIDN’T happen in this universe, aha ♥
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Also thanks for sticking with this fiction even though it was like 6 months ago I last updated. Had to sort through a lot of mental health issues, but I’m back and I’m on track and...back...wack… (couldn’t find a rhyme for that) 
> 
>  
> 
>  **GOSH** I can’t wait to get past this part. It’s so fast paced I don’t feel like it’s got meat in it. But don’t worry. After this, I got some real shit to throw in here. I’m excited.

Bertholdt couldn’t tear his eyes from this Titan even if he wanted to.  He couldn’t tear his eyes from the absolute carnage it left in its wake.  Piles of Titan corpses steaming into nonexistence among a destroyed city as a single Titan rampaged through them like soft butter...if the Marleyans had told him that he’d see this in his venture, he’d scoff, reluctant to believe them.  He’d heard stories of a TItan power lost years ago. Everyone had assumed whoever carried it had passed away without passing their power onto the next generation, and everyone concluded that was the most likely possibility. And yet here he was, face to face with another just like them...but who was it?  And how did it get here? He swallowed hard and finally managed to peel his gaze from the Titan over to his Warriors. Porco was still fixed on the commotion, as was Annie, but Marcel locked eyes with Bertholdt. A mutual understanding shot between them, ‘We need this.’

He was so focused he hadn’t realized the amount of chatter among the other troops, full of ‘what’s that?’ and ‘what the hell is going on?’  Sheer confusion and fear flowed through the group, and it was quickly rising. ‘If it does this to Titans, what could it be capable of doing to people?’  ‘Is this where we die?’

Beside him was Krista, who was visibly shaking where she stood.  “I don’t want to go out there…” She murmured. Bertholdt understood where she was coming from, but before he had a chance to open his mouth and comfort her, Marcel took initiative.

“Ok, guys, just look at it.”  He called loudly, managing to silence the group.  “It’s not even trying to attack any of the soldiers out there.  It’s not looking for people to eat. It’s only attacking the Titans.  I’m sure if you just stay away from it, it won’t hurt you. Use this opportunity to get to safety.”

“What about the other Titans around it, though?”  A sobbing voice came from the crowd, one that Marcel couldn’t find the source it came from.  

“Alright, then. A team or two stays back and makes sure the rest go out safely.  My squad can stay back and cover them. I’m sure Marco’s squad can stay back too.”

“Your squad only has two living people in it.”  Marco commented.

“That’s all we need.”  Marcel replied. “We’ve got the best of the best in these squads.”

“The best of the best and these guys.”  Porco muttered, gesturing to Krista and the cadet whose name neither of them cared to remember.  “Might as well have them leave too. They’ll just get in the way.” The unnamed cadet scowled.

Marcel crossed his arms and peered at his little brother.  Despite Porco’s obvious emotional troubles right now, he was still being his same old self.  “Don’t be rude.”

“I guess we can stay back and help the others escape.”  Marco said, with hesitant agreement with his squad (save for the unnamed cadet, who decided they wanted to escape with the rest of the soldiers.  Marco didn't fight it and let them go.)

“I’m staying, too.” Mikasa said, and after lots of back and forth debating with himself, Jean decided to stay back and help as well.

“I’ll stay too.”  Armin piped up. Marcel raised a brow.  Armin wasn’t really the...best candidate to stay behind and fight Titans.  He was surprised he survived this long.

“Really?   _You?_ ”  He genuinely asked, but didn’t fight it.  If Armin wanted to become potential fodder, then that was his choice.  “Alright. That settles it. Come on, let’s get fueled up.”

It almost felt like getting a glass of water after an extremely hot day--just sheer relief as the fuel tanks refilled alleviated a good majority of the stress weighing down on the soldiers’ shoulders, because at least now they had a chance.  A chance to survive the day. A chance to get the hell out of here.

As Porco was refilling his tanks, Marcel placed a hand on his shoulder.  “Is everything ok?” Marcel asked quietly.

“Yeah.”  He responded, not taking his eyes off of what he was doing.  “Fine.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Porco inhaled deeply for a moment, almost hesitant to speak again.  “It’s not something I can talk to you about.”

Marcel raised a brow.  “You can’t talk about it?”

“No, it’s not something I can talk to _you_ about.”  His eyes flicked over to Bertholdt who was also refilling his reserves across the room for a split second before returning his attention to his work.  “I’m fine. Just focus on getting us out of here. The sooner we get home, the better.” Marcel didn’t respond any further; just pat his brother on the back and went to see of anyone else needed help with restocking.  A sigh escaped the blond’s lips. _Soon,_ he thought, _soon we can go home.  Soon we can put this behind us._

Bertholdt sat off to the side on a crate after he finished restocking and adjusted the straps, the infernal straps that held him captive, of his ODM.  It was strange how he felt he'd much rather be in his Titan form than these wretched restraints. Sure it hurt more, but at least he was free to be himself, free to be the monster he was groomed to be, and not hidden under layers upon layers of facade.  He sighed, and quickly changed his thought process on a new topic; mainly about the rogue Titan outside currently. He almost missed the fact that Annie sat on the same crate beside him, and may have if she hadn’t sat _quite_ so close to him he could feel it.  She faced opposite him, probably to make it seem like it wasn’t obvious that they were talking, but she must have something to say to him if she’s this close.  “Hm?” He hummed. Annie, too, fussed with her straps.

“Do you think it’s what we’re looking for?”  Ah, she had similar thoughts.

“No, it’s probably just a bonus.  But it complicates things.”

“Yes.  Do you think it’s a counter from the king?”

Bertholdt shrugged.  “I don’t see it. Even if it was, why would it be attacking other Titans?  They know what…” he lowered his voice to barely a whisper, “they know what ours look like.  Killing the Pure ones doesn’t make a difference.”

“Unless he did it to save his people from the Pures.”

He thought back to the amount of destruction the Titan created when it was killing the others.  Broken buildings, completely demolished streets, the amount of actual Titan bodies flung haphazardly around the city.  This Titan had no control over it’s Titan body. If it was part of the king’s plan to save his people, it was a shit move.  “The collateral damage is too much. Not a wise decision, if you ask me. I don’t think it’s from the king.”

Annie hummed and stood.  “You could be right. It’s not something we should dwell on right now, anyway.”  She repeated her words from earlier.

Bertl nodded, peering over his shoulder at her as she walked away from him.  “Later, then.” He said.

“Later.”  

If only ‘later’ could come sooner.  And if only ‘later’ didn’t imply they’d have to go headfirst into Titan territory again.  Sure, Bertholdt could handle Titans. Did he want to? Nope.

The plan: Marco, Bertl, Annie, Mikasa, Krista, Marcel, Porco, Jean, and Armin would be the defense measure for the remainder of the troops holed up in HQ.  They were to keep the Titans away from them so they could make it to the far gate and over the wall. The plan beneath that one, the one only spoken among the Warriors, was that once everyone had escaped, the four would turn back and hunt down the rogue Titan--the one they concluded _could_ be the Attack Titan, but the one they knew for sure wasn’t the Coordinate.  The Coordinate was too hefty a price to just toss into a person who clearly couldn't have control over the Titan they already possessed.  Still, they'd only be able to figure out who it was. Only after they found the Coordinate would they be able to obtain the Attack Titan as well.  That would have to be the last thing they do here.

That was a lot for the Warriors to have to account for.  They were already up to their necks with their original mission that the side mission didn't help at all.

But they'd have to deal.  They had no choice as their blades sunk deep into the necks of the Pure Titans littering the streets.  “On your left!” A warning was shouted at Bertholdt. Whoever said it, he wasn't sure in the commotion, saved his ass, as a small Titan peeked its ugly head from behind a building.  He took it down quickly, but at the cost of his blades. Not that it mattered much. The cadets they were providing cover for were practically gone at this point, leaving the two squads to rest atop the roof of a somewhat taller residential building.   They were exhausted, for sure, but at least they were alive.

The Titan, too, was running low on energy; but to the soldiers’ surprise, kept powering through the remaining Titans as it started evaporating into nothingness.  The Warriors kept their eye on it, though, already preparing to quickly capture it should the person inside get eaten. They hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Marco huffed.  “Well, are we good to leave, too?”  He asked, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead.  

“You can if you'd like.  I'm going to stay longer, just in case.”  Marcel replied. Porco glanced at him.

“Should...should _I_ go too?”  He asked, hoping his wording would be decipherable, asking if he should demolish the gate now.

“Not yet.  Just wait a little longer.”  His eyes were glued to the Titan as it's rampage slowed.   _Just a little longer._

“Hey,”  Marco said, “that was a good plan you had.  You saved a lot of people.”

“Well, you helped.  I can't take all the credit.”  Marcel smiled and reached his hand out to him.  “See you on the other side?”

Marco smiled in return and took his hand in a firm shake.  “On the other side.”

Annie, who had been previously off to the side, piped up.  “Hey, Marcel.” She called, and brought everyone’s attention to the Titan, who had fallen over and nearly evaporated completely.  The person inside was emerging, and all the Warriors’ eyes were on it--on whoever it was that was inside.

“What the hell?”  Jean muttered under his breath.  “Is someone inside?”

And as they emerged and he caught sight of who it was, Marcel felt his blood chill.  “No way…”


	11. The Battle of Trost, Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot how long the Trost arc actually was. :y
> 
> But I rewatched season 1 and I never realized how much foreshadowing for the Warriors that it actually included. Damn 10/10 foreshadow, SnK. 

“This is bad.”  Porco muttered, hands massaging into his temples as if it would magically get rid of the increased stress caused from their newest findings.  They had returned, along with Mikasa, Armin, Jean, and the remainder of Marco’s squad, to the rendezvous point on the other side of the wall, outside of Trost.  They had been discovered by the Garrison as they climbed the wall with Eren (or rather, his unconscious body). Of course, Eren was apprehended and taken, along with Mikasa and Armin.  The rest of the soldiers were under strict orders to say nothing, or as the commander of the Garrison squad said, ‘you’d better keep your fuckin’ mouths shut or it’ll be your asses.’ “This is really bad.”

“Stop talking about it.”  His brother whispered.

“They’ll kill him.  Tell me you at least have a plan.”  Porco whispered back.

“Shush.”  Marcel hissed.  His arms were crossed as he leaned against several supply crates stacked in the courtyard of the rendezvous.  He watched the other Warriors closely. They didn’t sit too far from them. Bertholdt sat on a small bench, keeping his own watchful eye on the Galliards, waiting for any sign to act, and Annie stood several feet away from him.  Marcel kept an even closer eye on Marco’s squad. Marco seemed pretty composed, or as composed as one could be after witnessing one of their friends emerging from the nape of a gargantuan humanoid creature. Marcel had, a long time ago, concluded that the general masses were unaware of the secrets behind the Titans.  The king may be the only person who knew about it--the king and whoever he deemed trustworthy enough to tell. Still, Marco was surprisingly composed and, despite the fact that Marco would occasionally look Marcel’s way and attempt a sort of half-smile, it irked Marcel. He tried not dwelling on it too long. Jean sat near Marco and hadn’t said a single word to anybody since he’d arrived.  The commander’s warning must have really resonated with him. Even if it didn’t, how would one describe the sight he witnessed? He’d sound absolutely mad. Krista was off in her own corner across the courtyard with her knees to her chest. She also hadn’t spoken anything since returning. None of them seemed like they had caught on to what this meant, and therefore Marcel, aside from irked, didn’t consider them threats; but he wanted to keep an eye on them...just in case.

On top of this, Marcel had to keep the wheels in his head turning, and account for what to do next with a potential extra body they have to take home with them.  He was still working on that part of the plan update.

“So, nothing, then?”  Porco muttered again.

Marcel glared at him, pointer fingered pressed to his lips.   _ Shush! _  Porco rolled his eyes and walked away from him.  

“Whatever.”  He mumbled and made his way over to Annie.

“Has Berwick said anything?”  Annie whispered when Porco got close enough.

“Not a thing.  Keeps ‘shushing’ me.”

“Could be for the best.”  She replied. “Maybe it’s  _ not _ the best for us to talk right now.”

Porco frowned.  “It never is.”

“Then why are you still here?”

He scoffed and made his way towards Bertholdt.   _ Third time’s a charm,  _ he thought.  He gestured to what little room was left on the bench.  “Can I sit here, or are you going to push me away too?” Bertholdt glanced up at him, said nothing, but scooted over to give him more room to sit.  “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”  Bertholdt hummed.  

“God, I can’t wait to get out of here.”  Porco sighed.

“If we can make it through today.”

“We can.”

“I know.”

“Then what’s with the ‘if’ talk?”

Bertl shrugged.  “Just can’t help it.  It goes through my mind, you know.  ‘What if’ this. ‘What if’ that.”

Porco nodded in understanding.  “Yeah I understand that, I suppose.  Hey, so, I kind of wanted to talk to you.  Not here, of course, but maybe later.”

He raised a brow.  “About what?”

“Just...things.”

“‘Home’ things?”

“War things.”

“Oh.  Ok.” He glanced over to their party leader, who was still leaning against the crates, facial expression and posture unchanged, eyes scanning across the courtyard, sometimes at the Warriors, sometimes at the natives.  Bertl couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind right now. Marcel was the brains behind the operation, and if Bertl’s mind was buzzing and Porco’s mind was buzzing, how much was Marcel’s mind buzzing? How many pieces of a puzzle was he trying to shove together to at least  _ try _ to get a picture?  Eventually, Marcel moved.  He rubbed his eyes, sighed a little bit, and beckoned Annie to come to him.

“What are they doing?”  Porco asked, eyes also locked on the others.  Bertholdt shrugged again. He wasn't sure what it could be about.  The mission, he guessed, but other than that, he was completely in the dark.  Though, whatever it was, Annie didn’t seem thrilled. She walked away from Marcel fuming while he just stared after her, almost pleadingly.  Why, he wasn’t sure. “What happened?” Porco asked as Annie walked right past them silently. “Annie, what--” He went to follow her, but Bertl held him back.

“Don’t follow.”  He whispered. “We don’t know who’s watching, especially right now.”

“What did he say to her?”

“We’ll have to find out later.  Just relax.”

Porco rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest.  “Easy for you to say.”

“There’s nothing else to do so right now so just try.”

Yeah, try to relax.”  Porco muttered under his breath.  “ _ Try _ to  _ relax. _  Have you ever  _ tried _ to relax?  It’s a paradox.”

Bertl side-eye glared at him but said nothing else and let Porco have his little pity party next to him.  He took a slow, deep breath and shut his eyes, trying to think about anything else. He tried to think about home, about Liberio.  It had been so long, he wondered how much it would change when they returned. He thought of his mother, but it had been so long. He couldn’t fully remember what she looked like.  He remembered the shape of her nose, he’d gotten his from her. And her hair; the thick dark hair he got from her, too. When he saw her again, would she be more gray than when he left?  Not that she had exorbitant about of gray hairs to begin with, but there were a few. Maybe a couple extra wrinkles on her face. Again, not that she had many to begin with but five years is a long time.  Bertl had changed, too. He sprouted really tall since coming here. At least a foot taller, maybe a foot and a half. His eyes were more tired too, since first arriving as a twelve year old. He always tried to avoid mirrors if possible.  He didn’t like to look at what he’d become.

And as quickly as his mother settled into his mind, she was quickly shoved out of it with the sound of a blast--a cannon everyone around him concluded.  Smoke billowed from the source. But there was something else, something very distinct the Warriors knew that no one else did. The flash of light synonymous with transforming filled the courtyard, and they knew.  Eren was under attack.

That was their biggest worry, anyway.  Marcel was first to act, and used his ODM to travel towards the source.  Porco followed close behind, followed by Annie, Bertl, Jean, and Marco. 

_ Please don’t be dead, _ Marcel thought--prayed, actually.  _ Please don’t...please.   _

“Oh God.”  Jean gasped as the gaggle of soldiers gathered atop a roof to see what happened.  They all gaped at the spectacle--a half formed Titan body. Eren, the Warriors assumed.  It had to be, no one else here had one of the Nine. The giant must have stopped the cannonball.  It stood sturdy, implying that it's pilot was still alive, and even in it's partially formed state, the Titan was terrifying.  Marcel didn't blame the military for being afraid. But it would pose problems if they kept attacking him. 

Annie glanced at Marcel thought he corner of her eye.  His gaze was fixed on the Titan, hand up to his own lips.  From an outsider’s perspective, it would look nothing more than nervous fussing, but to Annie, Marcel’s intent was clear.  Surely, she knew, he was ready to transform if the military kept up its attack on Eren. Not that it's what he wanted but he couldn't risk losing an asset (an important asset) just to keep his cover.  “Don’t.” She whispered. “It's not worth it. Not now.”

He didn't move.  

Marco placed a hand on Marcel’s shoulder with a concerned expression.  “Are you ok?”

“Mhm.”  Marcel hummed, eyes still fixed on the ordeal and fingers still pressed to his lips.  “Just...intrigued.”

“Intrigued…”  Marco repeated, as if it wasn't a word he himself would use, but didn't press further.

Eventually their commander joined them on the rooftop, berating them all for leaving the courtyard without permission and how they'd ‘better get their asses back right now or they’ll all be court-martialed for insubordination.’  Reluctantly, the soldiers did as they were told and made their way back to the courtyard, but not before Marcel took several glances back at the Titan. No more fire… Eren was safe for now, and Marcel let out a somewhat relieved breath as he made his way back to join the others. 

Their commander kept berating them after they returned.  ‘How dare you leave your posts, soldiers!’ was the main focus of his yelling, but he completed it with ‘you’re lucky we need your asses otherwise you’d be in deep fuckin’ shit right now!’  Luckily the yelling ended right there, and they were stuck waiting again for more direction. 

Bertholdt took his seat where he had been before, on the bench by himself.  Porco didn’t join him, instead he stayed near his brother, and Annie was completely on the other side of the courtyard.  He closed his eyes again and leaned back, trying to place his thoughts back on his mother.

“Hey, is it ok if I sit with you?”  A voice beside him asked. Bertl peeled his eyes open and was greeted by the sight of Connie.  

“Yeah.”  Bertl replied, scooting over a little bit to make room for Connie, who was already sitting down next to him.  

“Hey, so…”  Connie started, “I know that you were pretty close to Franz, right?”

Bertholdt shrugged.  “We were on good terms.”

“Yeah.  That was like me and Thomas.  It’s hard to believe he’s gone..”  He sighed. “You know, when I signed up for this, when I signed up to join the military, I never actually thought I’d be fighting the Titans.”

“You signed up to fight Titans and are surprised you have to fight Titans?”  The brunette raised a brow.

Connie frowned.  “No, I mean.” He sighed again.  “When I enlisted, I really had no idea that it would be like this.  I thought I’d be able to make it to the interior. I was placing all my bets on making it there.  I was going to go be a part of the Military Police, make mad cash and send that cash to my family.  I was going to do right by them, but then this happened. And now I’m afraid. What if I die today? What if I die and never get to prove to them, or myself, that someone like me can be successful?”

Bertholdt, who had previously been looking at Connie as he spoke, pulled his gaze downward to the ground--to his scuffed up boots.  “If you’re willing to put your life on the line because you  _ might _ get to live on the inside and be part of the MP, then I would already call that successful.  You have a goal, a dangerous goal, and are working to that. You already have a pass in, you’re part of the top ten of this division.  You only have to live through today, and it’s already almost done. If that’s not success to your parents, then they’re terribly difficult to please and probably don’t deserve you.”

Connie smiled.  “Thanks, Bertholdt.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Well, what about you?  You told us where you came from, but you never told us why you enlisted.  Did you always want to join the military?”

Bertl thought about it, about his life before the Warrior program, then humorlessly smirked at the irony of what he’d become in lieu of what he wanted to be.  “No. When I was little, I wanted to be a doctor.” 

Connie was surprised.  “A doctor, huh?”

“A surgeon, actually.  When I was really young, my father got struck with kidney disease and passed away.  Then shortly after, my mother got sick with it, too. I remembered what it did to my father and was determined to fix it.”  Bertholdt’s eyes were still locked on his boots, but his mind wandered back to Marley, back to the day his mother signed his life away with the stroke of her pen, so easily without hesitation.  “She didn’t let me.”

“So you joined the army to help her?”

“I suppose you could say that.”  Bertholdt finally looked at something that wasn’t the ground.  He focused on Annie, several yards away from him. God only knows what’s going through her mind right now.  “I know it can do more good than harm if I do this. In a way, I’m trying to do right by my family, too.” 

“Wow.  Man, you’re so cool, Bertholdt.”  Connie praised. “Man, your motivation is a lot better than mine, damn.”

“Don’t say that.  Your choices and motivation don’t have to match mine.  It’s not a contest of who deserves it more.” He looked at Connie.  “If you want it, then nothing should stop you from getting it.”

“Heh, you’re right.  Ugh, sorry for complaining your ears off.  I’m just really stressed.”

“Who isn’t?”

“Yeah.  I mean, look at poor Jean over there.  Looks like he’s seen a ghost.”

“Might as well have.”

“Hey Bertholdt.  Thanks for talking to me about this stuff.  I was starting to doubt everything. How about this...when we get to the interior, after our first paycheck, I’ll take you out for a drink.”

Bertholdt smiled.  “Do you think you’ll have enough money?”  He explained further when Connie was confused.  “I mean, I’m a big guy. It’ll take me a long time to get drunk.  You’ll probably be inebriated before I even get a buzz.”

“Psh.  Like you could outdrink me.”

“You’re...really small.  I would drink you under the table, and then some.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Are you taking it as a challenge?”

“Maybe I am.”

Bertholdt smiled again and stuck out his hand towards Connie.  “Ok, then. It’s a challenge.”

Connie took his hand.  “You got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which Bertholdt is everyone's therapist.


End file.
